The Gift
by Lyra Lupin
Summary: Norrington and OFC. To release his unspent passions, James Norrington has a secret: he plays the violin. Drama, action and beautiful duets unfold helping James to discover love, trust and the true nature of his own heart. FINAL CHPT POSTED.
1. Chapter 1: Prelude

**_The Gift: Chapter 1 Prelude_**  
The Gift  
Chapter 1: Prelude  
Setting: Post POTC 3  
Characters: Norrington/ OFC  
Plot: A fluffy holiday love story. What if James Norrington played the violin?

_  
"It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness and of pain: of strength and freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature, and everlasting beauty of monotony."_

Benjamin Britten

Port Royal, Governor Swann's Estate  
Early December, 1760

"The violinist Gagliano has opened a music shop," Mrs. Jane Groves whispered behind her fluttering lace fan with a sweet, lyrical whisper. "Perhaps now you can replace your violin, Admiral?" 

The admiral's green eyes hardened at her words, and with a slight creak of his chair, Jane's husband Theodore leaned forward, careful to speak in hushed tones as Bach's Air on a G String played to a polite, if somewhat bored audience packed with Port Royal's privileged.

"That, my dear, is one of the Admiral's little secrets." He admonished, raising his dark eyebrows to his wife. 

"Tosh!" She slapped his thigh with her fan. "I think it's very romantic! You shouldn't keep it a secret, Admiral Norrington. If the ladies of Port Royal knew they had a true Renaissance man in their presence they would swoon upon looking at you."

"They do that already!" Theodore laughed.

James ignored Theodore's astute comment and replied to the woman, "Perhaps you'll have me joining the chamber players then, Mrs. Groves?" His thin lips broke into a smirk and she had to smile back.

"I would never suggest that you put yourself on public display, but Theodore and Andrew do speak so highly of your skills and talents."

"Jane," Theodore mocking admonished, "I wasn't speaking of James's musical skills."

The young woman politely giggled behind her suddenly frantic fan as James Norrington blushed.

"Thank you, Captain Groves, for extolling my nautical talents...I am sure that is what you were speaking of so graciously?"

He lost his smile and Theodore nodded, "Of course, sir."

"Shhh!"

Mrs. Gravely, the elderly busybody wife of one of Port Royal's wealthiest admonished them from with a glance over her shoulder from several rows forward.

Theodore sighed, leaning back into his chair as Norrington turned his eyes once again to the chamber orchestra or at least what he could see of them behind Mrs. Gravel's ever- growing bouffant of hair, festooned with pink flowers and blue ribbons.

Attending Governor's Swann's monthly musical salon concert for Port Royal's wealthy and privileged wasn't just a duty for James Norrington, it was also a pleasure. Not as much as it had once been sitting on the front row with the Governor and his daughter, the woman he had hoped to be his wife. But still, ¦James found comfort in music, and even his distaste for Elizabeth and Will Turner or his third row seat did not turn him away from Weatherby's musical recitals.

As Bach lulled the crowd into its second hour, Norrington's eyes strayed to the new Italian violinist, Gagliano, and his mind reflected on his own violin for the first time in many months. It was one of few prize possessions lost to the sea in the hurricane nearly fourteen months prior, but it was nothing compared to the husbands, sons and brothers he would never bring home from that fateful voyage.

His fingers balled into tight fists mimicking the agony in his heart. He had written every mother and wife and since then vanquished Beckett and brought home Will and Elizabeth Turner, but two things still eluded him: Jack Sparrow and inner peace. Although he was searching diligently for number, he'd hit a road block with the second. 

Nothing seemed to give him comfort outside of work besides these concerts which were to rare and certainly didn't compare to the joy and release of playing his violin after along days work. Perhaps, Jane Groves was correct, he glanced sideways at the pretty girl, daughter of the town's master mason and Theodore's recent wife and then he looked forward to Elizabeth. If he couldn't have the immense pleasure of torturing Sparrow or making love to a pretty wife, at least he could unleash his unspent passion into his music...

TBC


	2. Chapter 2: Andante

**_The Gift: Chapter 2 Andante_**  
Setting: Post POTC 3  
Characters: Norrington/ OFC

lj-cut text"Andante"  
_  
"It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness and of pain: of strength and freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature, and everlasting beauty of monotony."_

Benjamin Britten

It was nearly a week before Admiral Norrington found an afternoon that he could leave his work early. It was difficult, but he left Captain Groves in charge and headed towards his town home. There he quickly changed into his civilian attire: a dark blue jacket, a silver brocade waist coat, gray breeches and black stockings. He rested his wig on its manikin, clubbed back his dark hair with a black ribbon and placed a simple tricorne upon head. To the disconcerting eye, he would appear as any other gentleman of the merchant class of Port Royal.

Nearly skipping out the door of his modest town home, James smiled as he left the wig and the responsibilities of the admiralty behind; something he rarely, if ever, did. Today, he was just a man and he was intent on shopping for an early Christmas gift.

Turning into a small alley off High Street, the incognito Norrington, eyed the wooded placarded hanging above a red lacquered door which read "Gagliano Music" with a painting of a violin and a French horn intertwined, a graphic design for those customers ignorant to their letters. Removing his tricorne, he entered the small shop which appeared a first sight, no larger than a reading closet.

"Hello?"

The shop was silent. To James's surprise, it was small, but it was packed with a myriad of instruments. On the left wall hung at least ten violins, below them rested cellos and an assortment of viols. On the right, a clavier and a full scale classical harp clung to the wall, surrounded by smaller lever harps; above hung French horns and bugles.

Approaching the front counter, which was also a show case for concert flutes, whistles and fifes, he called to doorway which was covered by a heavy velvet curtain.

"Good day! Is anyone in?"

Again, silence.

Then turning back to the shop, he set his eyes on the most lovely violin he had ever seen. The instrument was of a deep cheery and brandy coloration with an ebony finger board and ivory carved pegs. It sat with its bow on an embroidered bench, seeming the only furniture within the shop; a fresh sheave of music tucked beneath it. Tentatively, he allowed his fingers to brush the strings. His callused fingertips eliciting the open string harmonics.

His mouth watered and without further thought as to the silence of the shop, he delicately lifted the violin to his chin and picked up the bow. It rested easily beneath his chin as he tightened the horse hair of the wooden stick, closing his eyes as he breathed with pleasure the scent of pine rosin and something else. Was it the scent of a woman?

Drawing the bow to the string, he played the first piece that came into his mind, Vivaldi's _Concerto in B minor_, it was one of his favorites. The violin responded with a deep resonance fromm the soaring notes of the opening motif to the rich lower cries of the G string.James Norrington transcended into musical heaven.

He had been playing several minutes, his eyes open, but his thoughts lost within the complexities of the music. It was several seconds before he realized that the beautiful woman standing behind the counter was real and not a vision of his playing. He stopped instantly, his cheeks flushed.

"Don't stop! You're playing is lovely," The dark-eyed lady said with light voice.

James bowed slightly, "Thank you, madam." She was very beautiful. Dark hair, pulled loose back from her face with an auburn ribbon matching her amber gown, which was low cut in the French style. James decided that she must be the owners daughter or wife, but she was certainly not of the working classes.

"You are a skilled musician." Her black eyes dancing, "We don't often get such as you here."

"Your flattery is not necessary."

Her rose lips smirked, "I never flatter, only compliment where I see fit."

Norrington pulled his eyes from hers, and looking at the instrument in his hand, "It is an exceptional violin."

The woman approached from behind the counter, taking the bout in her hand, "I have always thought so." She looked at the instrument reflectively, then turning her eyes up to penetrate James's green ones, "My father made it for me when I was twelve. It has served me well."

Norrington could feel the heat radiating off of her or was that only his imagination? His pinned up desires playing upon his own vulnerability? No wonder the instrument had smelled sweet like a woman; the players scent is often rubbed into the oils of the wood especially if it were resting against a naked neck. His green eyes darted from her pale, olive collar bone, back to his shoes as he again bowed, trying to quiet his body's physical response to the thought.

"I had no intention of playing your instrument."

Norrington cringed as he could almost her Gillette and Groves rolling in laughter at the comment.

"No indeed, sir. It is for sale. I hardly ever play violin these days." She stepped back, offering the instrument back to James, as if she was shyly realizing that were indeed two handsome people alone in a very small shop. "Are you looking for a new violin, Mister…"

"James Norrington," he nodded his head.

"Mister Norrington," the woman curtsied, "Lucy Gagliano, my father is the violin master Nicolas Gagliano." She announced in untainted English, though by her coloring it was clear she was Italian.

"Miss Gagliano, it is a pleasure," James smiled at the woman, thankful that she was his daughter and not his wife and wondering if she had indeed made the reference to her father for his benefit. Although mama's were often throwing their moon-eyed daughters at him, this woman was different. It wasn't just her continental features, but it was her air of confidence and the fact the that she claimed herself to be a musician. It was unusual for a woman to be so bold.

Bringing his thoughts back to the instrument, "I am indeed looking for a new violin. Mine was…" He hesitated to say it, "lost at sea."

"Then it is time for you to make a new purchase." She turned to the left wall, "We have a large assortment of instruments from my uncles' workshop in Naples. You're welcome to audition as many as you choose."

"And would this be your favorite?" His green eyes rested easily on her petite form.

"Yes," she answered, reaching out and plucking the strings. Her eyes then turning up, "But I would be happy to have it resting in your confident hands, Mister Norrington."

"I'm not sure about confident. You're father is an excellent violinist, you're surely spoiled to excellent playing."

"You attend Governor Swann's salon every month, sir. We are both spoiled!"

James was somewhat taken aback at her comment and for an instant he allowed his mask of cool priority to slip, showing his inner thoughts.

"I am correct, am I not? You are Admiral Norrington?" She tilted her head with question.

And he wondered how he had never spied her. "Umm.. yes… Well, most days. Today, I'm just Mister Norrington."

She laughed; a musical, throaty laughter. It was certainly not the restrained English parlor giggle. "Well, Mister Norrington, I believe I've unmasked you! The Admiral of Port Royal and a fine musician."

To his chagrin, he conceded, "Yes, I am both. But I'd rather my men though of me as wielding a Spanish sword not an Italian bow." He raised the small wooden stick to an _en garde_.

"Your secret is safe with me, but I think you underestimate the power of music." With a rustle of silk, she steeped around James, "The sword has the power to make war, but the bow has the power to make," suddenly she hesitated, her last word, softly spoken, "love."

Her pale cheeks blushed and she turned away quickly, moving towards a cello propped in the corner. James Norrington was speechless, thankfully Lucy filled the silence.

With out looking at him, she pulled forward a short stool. "Join me in a duet, Mister. Norrington? We shall explore your musical skills with a new piece from Mr. Haydn." She asked almost sternly, tuning her instrument before James had a chance to respond.

"Of course, Miss Gagliano. It would be my pleasure."

She then handed him a sheet of music without looking into his eyes. He hoped that she didn't notice the tightness of his breeches from her position; he then chided himself for not filling in the awkward silence earlier.

"You must promise not to make fun of my sight reading. It's rather rusty." _As are my skills with the fair sex_, he sadly mused.

This time, she did meet his eyes, bringing up her right hand, she saluted him. "Aye, aye sir."

It was James's turn to laugh.

"I would never insult an officer of the crown." She added, then turning back to her cello, she bowed a few notes, "I value my neck."

_So do I_, James thought. "You're not a pirate are you?"

"No." Lucy Gagliano replied staunchly, "I am a cellist."

James brought the violin to his chin as he adjusted his sheet music, "That's not a hanging offense…Yet…"

A smack of her bow on his leg issued a playful, 'ouch' from James and a look of amusement on Lucy's face as she tested her limits.

Without further ado to his barb she counted, "One, two, three…" And they were off; embarking in the chaste musical pleasure of Haydn.

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	3. Chapter 3: Soloist

The Gift  
Chapter 3: Soloist  
Setting: Post POTC 3  
Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Plot: A fluffy holiday love story. Who knew that James Norrington played the violin?

lj-cut text"Soloist"

As the daughter of famed Italian violinist Nicholas Gagliano, Lucrezia Anjelica Maria was raised between two worlds. Her childhood and education were spent at the English Court under the protection of her father's employer, the Viscount of Tweekesbury. With the supervision and care of the Vicount's kind wife, Anne (who was the Duke of Newcastle-upon-Tyne's daughter, as well) Lucy was raised with the royal children and cousins as nearly an equal. Along with the noble girls, she was schooled in embroidery, letters, languages, dance, drawing and music; and Lucy, the little Italian, excelled at music. Very much so.

She was immensely popular with her noble friends, who became a sort of surrogate family, and she attended every court dance and party with the household entourage. Often, she was called upon to play viola de gamba or cello at these revelries, and her attractive looks and exceptional talent caused many noble boys and men to swoon and swear their undying love.

Yet, she was not of noble birth. The daughter of musician Nicolas Gagliano and Venetian Opera Company soprano Chritiana Regoli; she was a bastard -- a fact hidden from her most of her life and, for the sake of her father's patron, covered up with the convenient lie that her mother had died in childbirth. The future of this beautiful, talented daughter of a popular violinist would be precarious one past the age of seventeen, and her father often warned that she would have to tread carefully in the world of men. 

Thankfully, Nicholas Gagliano was a bookish man for an Italian and preferred practicing his music to pursueing Venetian singers (at least most of the time). He rescued baby Lucrezia from the poor house where her mother had immediately sent her, just a babe in the nurse's arms, the day Nicholas entered the birthing chamber. Christiana Regoli had many bastards, and she certainly didn't have time to raise them. Without a fight or even a good riddance, Nicholas left Christina to find his child. He took the small bambina in his arms, and that day he fell in love for the first time. 

Because Nicholas loved his daughter, he wanted to give her the best life possible. So when he was offered a position in an England court, he knew his daughter would be raised as a lady amongst the noble classes, and so he took the position. And there, Nicolas and Lucy had lived for the past twenty-three years. But last July, the old Viscount died and Nicholas, being little more than a servant even as the man's favorite musician, was forced to find a new master or a new world. Through the viscount's son, a man with interests in the colonies, he learned of a new job opportunity in Port Royal -- the chance to serve as violin master in the Governor's Chamber Orchestra with the additional freedom to pursue music and run his own small business. Realizing his daughter did not intend to marry her intended bethrothed, a German violinist by the name of Herbert Hasselmire (after all, four years had passed!) he decide it was time for a new world and a new life. 

Lucy was delighted. Number one, it meant that her father would break his arrangement with Herbert for his daughter's hand in marriage. Secondly, she would no longer be between worlds. A woman with the skills of a courtier and the lineage of a dancing girl, she could now become a merchant. She had vehemently refused to do what most women in her position did and become a kept woman, the mistress of a wealthy married gentleman. 

Finally, she was going to be part of something new -- the middle class. She had high hopes for finding a husband who was a dignified and dependable merchandiser himself. And although a number of suitable Port Royal business and tradesmen currently wooed her, the men she met wanted passive English wives, not female musicians with passionate hearts and souls that desired the pursuit of art and beauty. 

Returning from a quick trip to the baker, she entered through the back door of the shop and was surprised to hear the sound of a violin coming from the other side of the velvet curtains. Quietly sitting down her basket and removing her cloak, she peaked through the veil; and, to her great surprise, saw a formidable gentlemen. She pushed aside the curtain, watching him intently, his body moving with lithely and with ease as he cradled her violin beneath his chin and extolled one of Vivaldi's finest works. 

The man did not recognize her presence within the room, completely enraptured with his music making. Lucy smiled, as it wasn't often that she had the opportunity to spy on a handsome gentleman musician. She had watched Herbert play the same work often, but he never exuded the same tenderness or finess of feeling when he played. Finally, his green eyes caught hers, and that's when she recognized him. Dear god, it was the famous scorned lover of Port Royal, Admiral Norrington!

James Norrington lost track of time as they played duet after duet. Learning not only about one another but also about their own reaction in this musical exploration of Haydn's latest work. 

"Yes, truly," Lucy offered, "He is England's finest composer. You know, as a child I played for him."

"Really? You performed publicly in England?"

Suspecting his implication, she smiled. "It was a private salon gathering. They called me the 'Little Italian'."

Norrington stroked his chin. "Miss Gagliano, you still seem a little Italian."

Lucy laughed at his word play, "Italian in the flesh, but an English woman heart and soul, sir."

Norrington smiled at her loyalty to mother Brittian, but their conversation came to a quick end when a young boy bounded through the shop door.

"Admiral Norrington! Sir!" 

The boy came to a quick halt, and Lucy abruptly stood.

"Sir, you're needed at the fort immediately, sir. As requested of Capt'n Gillette."

James winced, as Gillette's return to port could only mean one thing -- pirates. 

"Thank you, sailor, that will be all."

"Aye, sir." The boy saluted and left the shop.

James turned to Lucy, realizing that there was so much he wanted to say and so much that must be left unsaid.

"Well, Admiral Norrington I believe duty calls," Lucy said regretfully.

"Yes…" James looked down at the violin and was surprised to hear himself say, "But it was very nice being Mister Norrington for the day." 

Lucy melted as his green eyes expressed a great surge of emotion. And just as unexpectedely, she reached out and touched his coat sleeve. "Here, you shall always be Mister Norrington, if you wish it."

James was touched by the young woman's sincerity. "I do, Miss Gagliano."

"Lucy," she said in little more than a whisper.

"…I do wish it, Lucy…." He answered quietly leaving a resounding wake of silence after her name. Both feeling awkward, they spoke at the same time. 

"I shall take the violin." "Shall you take the violin?"  
But Lucy caught her breath first and added, "I shall clean it for you, change the strings. It will be ready Monday, Mister Nor--"

"James." He said it almost curtly and then with apprehension. "My given name is… James." Then he wondered why he had said that and mentally slapped a palm to his forehead. He was acting like a schoolboy with the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and he wanted nothing more than to drift away at her silence.

"Well then," he said as he bowed quickly and headed towards the door. "Good day."

"James, wait!"

Lucy had been so surprised by his offering the use of his first name in such an innocent, bashful manner, that she had been nearly speechless. She smiled, and her dark eyes followed after him; and Norrington's heart ached at the use of his first name. It had been so long since he'd heard a fine lady call after him with such tenderness.

"Might we play again? I mean, if you enjoyed playing duets today, I would be honored to play with you again at your leisure, Admiral." 

She gave him a silly salute and prayed that he understood she was offering herself to him in only the strictest musical sense.

"It is James between us," his green eyes holding her in great esteem. "And it would be my honor."

She curtsied. "Good day, James Norrington."

He smiled at her and without another word rushed towards the awaiting carriage.

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	4. Chapter 4: Leading Tone

The Gift  
Chapter 4: Leading Tone  
Setting: Post POTC 3  
Characters: Norrington/OFC  
Plot: A fluffy holiday love story. Who knew that James Norrington played the violin?

Although he could have played music with Lucy all day, his meeting with Gillette had been vital. It wasn't Sparrow that his new Captain had encountered but a less personal threat and just as menacing -- Barbarossa. He was even closer this time to the English shipping lanes, and Norrington wondered if the man wasn't in league with Spanish traders or perhaps the Spanish government.

"Prepare to make sail immediately, Captain." Norrington commanded.

"Very good, sir."

Gillette bowed, but after the lesser officers left, Andrew lingered in the doorway.

"Sir…may I speak with you in private?" 

Norrington looked up from the maps that scattered his table.

"Of course."

"I have reason to believe that Barbarossa is aided by another in his ransacking of English ships. Possibly…he has a man in Port Royal."

The admiral's eyes flashed.

"Where did you come by this information, Captain?"

"A less than reputable source... A woman..." Gillette sighed. "A whore, but nonetheless, one whom I trust. And if it were true, then perhaps the Spanish have infiltrated our communications from the Crown. It would explain how Barbarossa is seconding our every move so quickly."

James felt his stomach turn. The Gaglianos were not the only foreign family in Port Royal, by any means, but yet…it made him uneasy. They were Italian. Could they also be Catholic sympathizers? He pushed the thought far from his mind.

"I will consider it, Gillette. Your friend's suggestion is within the bounds of consideration."

"Thank you, sir."

Gillette bowed but before leaving the room, he added, "And sir, my sailor indicated that you, too, have a new lady friend."

The comment surprised Norrington, but he didn't miss a beat.

"Indeed, she is a lady; and that being known, she is not my friend."

He nearly added, "Savvy?" but somehow managed to conclude the comment with a tired look of indifference despite his time in Sparrow's pirate crew giving him a good dose of humility and an entirely new outlook on the English language.

After a moment of silence, Andrew nodded.

"If you're lucky, sir, that will change. Good day, sir."

"Good day and good weather, Andrew," James replied to the empty room. 

That night, James Norrington's dreams were haunted. In sleep, seductive images of Lucy twisted and intertwined with nightmarish glimpses of Barbarossa. Andrew called out for James as he drowned beneath crashing waves; and in the background, Jane Groves giggled behind her frilly fan, her eyes cunning. 

And like most nights since he had visited the music shop, he awoke sweat-covered; but unlike the previous dreams, this one left him with a warm, sticky wetness covering his legs and dampening his bed gown. Throwing back the sheets and sitting up, he pulled the shirt off his body and dropped it to the floor. The coolness of the December air quieted his racing heart and heated skin. 

As he rung a sponge from the wash stand over his legs and erect maleness, he thought of the 'little Italian' and wondered on her background. She was no young girl. He guessed she was in her early twenties, perhaps a bit old to still be unwed. Also, she was a foreigner passing for English…the daughter of a musician, not exactly a lady, as he had confided in Gillette. 

Running the sponge down his torso, rivulets of water ran over his naked flesh like blue rivers in the Caribbean moonlight and he wondered, ashamedly, if she had ever known a man. Would he still want her if she had? His member lengthened against the sponge and James, braced his free hand against the washstand. God help him, his body and soul confessed that they didn't care. There had been a time in his life when he thought the Governor's young and innocent daughter would make a suitable wife for him, but betrayal changes a man. Being publicly spurned by Elizabeth had made him reconsider what qualities were truly important in a wife. 

Eventually, he learned that he wanted a woman, not a caudled girl. Not that he knew a lot about women, but in his estimation it wasn't necessarily age that distinguished the two. A woman's character was formed the same as a man's -- from experience. Just how much experience he was willing to accept? Well, he wasn't sure. One thing he did know is he desired loyalty, not just to him but also to Queen and kingdom. She had commented that she was "Italian in flesh but her heart and soul was English." But could he trust her?

His body now clean, he climbed back into bed unclothed, stretching out his long body against the cool linen. James was not overly educated in the arts _de amour_ but was Lucy? Or was she as innocent as her eyes conceded?

"She is Italian after all," he mused aloud. "Don't they have a different standard?" Then his mind raised back to Wednesday. "…My heart and soul are English." Then again, he'd known many English wives, especially of the noble classes, that lived more lasciviously than Italian opera singers.

Finally overcome with confusion and sleep, James rubbed at his face. _Dear god, I've only met her once and she's already clouding my mind._ In roughly eight hours, he would face her again at her little music shop, a place where the world seemed less complicated, a little piece of the Caribbean where he could just be known as James and could speak her name aloud without gossip or speculation.

And before he felt into a dreamless slumber, he practiced her name one last time.

"Lucy…"


	5. Chapter 5: Violin

The Gift  
Chapter 5: "Violin"  
Setting: Post POTC 3  
Characters: Norrington/OFC  
Plot: A fluffy holiday love story. Who knew that James Norrington played the violin?

Dressed in his regular naval brocade jacket and white breeches, Norrington removed the feathered tricorne from his head as he entered his office on a chilly December morning. Something was amiss….Sitting on his desk was a large box tied with a red bow.

He turned to the redcoat standing guard outside his office.

"Solider, who entered my office this morning?" he questioned, voice stern.

The man tightened his lips momentarily then quickly said, "Captain Groves, sir!…But he wished for me to keep that a secret from you, sir."

"Ahhh," Norrington nodded. "And the package?" he asked, still suspicious.

The soldier's eyes looked away from the Admiral, eyeing the red bow.

"I believe, sir, that is a Christmas gift."

Suddenly, James felt immensely dense.

"That will be all," he commanded and shut the door, thinking to himself that it was a bit early in the month for Christmas gifts. With apprehension, he untied the ribbon and lifted the box lid. Nestled inside the white linen was the violin, her violin. He stroked the strings with pleasure then removed a sealed note from the box. 

_Dear Admiral Norrington,_

Please accept an early Christmas gift from your friends. We are honored and privileged to hold you in our company and good esteem.

Sincerely,

Captain and Mrs. Theodore Groves and Captain Andrew Gillette, R.N.  
  
A knock sounded at the door.

"Permission to enter?"

It was Groves.

"Yes, Captain."

Theodore appeared in the doorway, his face stoic.

"Sir, we've received communication from The Avenger. She is trailing Barbarossa's Golden Bones off the Spanish Main."

"Good," Norrington said, accepting a written communication from the man.

"And I believe I owe you a great deal of thanks."

Theodore finally smiled.

"It's the least your friends could do for you, sir."

"It certainly wasn't necessary."

"Neither was your rescue of us from Beckett, sir."

Norrington humbly lowered his eyes, remembering how he'd nearly gotten killed freeing Gillette and Groves from the brigade of an East India Trading Co. vessel, The Muzzle.

"We wanted to give you a Christmas gift that would remind you how highly your friends think of you, sir. And besides, Jane says that she wishes to hear music on Christmas day, so we had to offer it advance."

Norrington raised a questioning eyebrow.

"So you'll have time to practice!" Theodore laughed.

Norrington smiled. He really did like Jane, even if she had stolen his excuse to see Lucy today.

"Oh and, sir, Jane asks that you join us for dinner Friday night to welcome Captain Gillette's safe return."

"Successful return home, as well, I hope. But yes, of course, I'll come."

"Thank you, sir."

Groves bowed slightly, enjoying the secret knowledge of an even bigger surprise awaiting his friend.

The idea of surprising James with a violin had been Jane Groves', but she was inspired by the wish of Andrew and Theodore to give their leader and friend a very special Christmas gift to show their appreciation for saving their necks just six months prior. Of course, their necks wouldn't have been in danger if they hadn't have been so fiercely loyal to their Commodore to being with, but that being said…

Just a few days past, the plan had unfolded. Theodore playfully lamented, "We should buy him a mistress to warm his bed!"

And over a pint of rum, Andrew shook his head.

"He'll never accept that, but perhaps we should get him a puppy." And the two men had laughed heartily. 

It had been Jane that interjected, "Stop teasing the poor man! You want to give him something of quality and yet something useful, perhaps something that will cheer him up?" She mused, almost to herself than to them.

"Yes, but Elizabeth Swann has already married Turner," Andrew quipped.

Rum almost blew out of Theodore's nose as he gasped and laughed.

"I was thinking, Andrew, about replacing James's violin. You said it was lost in the storm."

"That's really an excellent suggestion, dear," Theodore replied, wiping the rum off his chin. 

"Yes, that is brilliant," conceded Andrew thoughtfully. "Now I'm no musician, Jane. But we can't just go out and buy him any violin. The man was quite attached to that one, in particular. I think the musician must choose the instrument."

Jane smiled knowingly.

"Don't worry about that. I have an idea."

Jane Groves had had the privilege of meeting Lucy Gagliano at one of Mrs. Gravely's teas. She immediately liked the woman and felt no hesitation discussing her private dilemma with her as they strolled the gardens together, arm in arm.

"You see, Miss Gagliano... Lucy." She corrected herself. "Admiral Norrington is an intensely private man, as his position in Port Royal must, of course, dictate."

"Yes, of course," Lucy replied having seen the Grove family and the Admiral at Governor's musical salon many times. She could tell by watching their mannerisms that the couple were fiercely loyal and protective of the Admiral, rescuing him from pushy mamas and defending his name when it rose in the course of gossip.

"So I can't exactly leave the task of chosing his violin to just anyone."

Jane's hazel eyes were pledging her to secrecy, and Lucy nodded.

"The admiral does not wish everyone to know of his musical talents. It's not uncommon, especially in a military man of his rank."

"Exactly!" Jane exclaimed.

"I am at the shop nearly every day, as my father is always teaching or rehearsing. When the Admiral comes to choose a violin, I shall make sure that we hold it for a few days. I'll offer the excuse that I must clean it and change the strings. In the meantime, I'll send word to you, Mrs. Groves--"

"Jane," she corrected.

"Jane, I shall send word to you on the instrument that he's chosen, and you can retrieve it from the shop before the Admiral."

"Oh, this is a wonderful deception!"

Jane clasped her hands together in excitement. And three months later, she received a note from Lucy.

_Dear Mrs. Groves,_

The Admiral was at the shop today and has selected a violin. I have delayed him until Monday afternoon. Please come by before him if you wish to continue with your Christmas surprise.

Sincerely,

Miss Lucy Gagliano  
Gagliano Violins and Musical Instruments  


"Hello? Lucy?" Jane called out as she peeked her head into the shop. She often visited the little music store, as she had taken a liking to the Italian woman; and they would often sip tea and play duets. Jane was an average clavier player but Lucy was happy to indulge her in cello/piano compositions. Lucy entered through the curtains, a large smile on his face

"He was here!"

"And?" Jane asked, her eyes wide.

"He picked this violin." Lucy indicated to the instrument of the front counter. "It's ready for your inspection."

Jane laughed, "Oh Lucy, I meant what did you think of Ja-- I mean, the Admiral."

"He is a fine musician."

Jane sighed.

"That sounds like something Mrs. Gravely would say. Come, Lucy, give me the details of your communication."

Lucy struggled to hide her own excitement, as she told the story of their meeting.

"I came upon him quite accidentally," she said, offering Jane a cup of tea, "He was here in the shop as I'd been out and was playing this violin. Honestly, he is very good."

"Really? I can't imagine. He's so self-contained. I thought his playing might be such, as well."

"It is my experience that when an individual's nature is reserved, music is often their emotional release. I think perhaps this is true in the case of the Admiral."

Lucy sipped at her tea, as Jane contemplated her assessment.

"He stayed on at least two hours, playing duets…It was very enjoyable." 

"What?!" Jane smiled, wondering what exactly had transpired between these two handsome individuals.

"Jane, please don't give me that look. We play duets here all the time. It's quite lonely being in the shop alone all day," Lucy admonished, refusing to look the other woman in the eye, lest she gave away her deeper emotions.

"Lucy, I don't think you understand. Theodore tells me that Norrington never takes even an hour off work. The fact that he spent the entire afternoon with you, that's remarkable."

"I'd say that he greatly enjoys playing the violin."

"And the company he was keeping," Jane added knowingly. "But the real question is did you enjoy the company _you_ were keeping?" 

Lucy smiled coyly.

"Yes, he is a knowledgeable man, confident in his musical prowess but humble in his ignorance. I would say, without knowing him well, that he is also very kind to those whom he loves."

"I've never heard him described that way by his men, but he certainly has elicited their utmost respect and dedication. And, of course, I agree with the last comment. He can be as fierce as a Norse warrior and as kind an English gentleman as I have ever encountered."

"And have you heard him described by women?" Lucy's dark eyes held so many questions.

"He has no mistress. That much I know." Jane was being bold to speak of his personal relations, but if she was going to persuade Miss Gagliano to take a sincere interest in James, she would have to be curt. After all, mate-matching was one of her many fortes!

"He was harshly burned by Elizabeth Swann, and Theodore has always lead me to believe that the admiral would rather be alone than find temporary comfort in Port Royal's…accommodating ladies."

"Oh!" Lucy raised her eyebrows then took a long sip of tea. This was certainly contradictory to what she imagined the amorous lives of sailors to commonly be. Then again, James Norrington wasn't a common sailor. He was an Admiral, even if he was an exceptionally young one.

"You don't think he's—" she began, but couldn't finish. "I mean to say that I have heard it rumored that some sea-going men practice.…well, sod-"

"No!" Jane defended, stopping Lucy before she said that horrid word. "No, Lucy, trust me! I have seen James eyeing ample bosoms and naked ankles when he doesn't know that he's being watched. He's definitely devoted to our sex! I'd say the Admiral is someone who expends his passion on his work….perhaps driven by the need to suppress his more _human_ needs."

"His work _and_ his music," Lucy added as the women both drew long sips from their teacups in silence.


	6. Chapter 6: Soli

The Gift  
Chapter 6: Soli  
Setting: Post POTC 3  
Characters: Norrington/OFC  
Plot: A fluffy holiday love story. Who knew that James Norrington played the violin?

lj-cut "Soli" 

Friday night arrived, but dinner would be no victory celebration. The Golden Bones had escaped Gillette and two other Royal Navy man-of-war ships somewhere off the Isthmus of Panama. Andrew's face had been pale despite his sun-burned skin when he gave the Admiral his final report. Norrington was disappointed but didn't blame the newly appointed Captain. After all, he knew Gillette had run The Avenger as hard as possible, stacking her light except for two twelve-pound cannons and ammunition. The Golden Bones had run faster, and Norrington and Gillette couldn't fathom how that was possible.

"Good evening, sir. My I take your cloak?" the footman asked as he alighted from the carriage.

"Thank you, Donaldson." James handed the man his clock and plain tricorne. Tonight was a party amongst friends, and he hand no need for Admiral attire.

Jane, Theodore and Andrew were already ensconced in the small two-story home, busy discussing the past week's activities. They quickly offered James a brandy and the group fell into comfortable but serious conversation about The Golden Bones and possible sea maneuvers.

But soon, a knock sounded on the door just as Jane said, "Well, I hope you three don't intend on telling sea stories all night?"

"Are there any other kind to tell?" Andrew asked bemusedly.

"Madam, may I present Mister and Miss Gagliano."

James looked calm but nearly dropped his glass as the violin master entered the parlor, followed by his daughter in crimson silks. She was more a vision of Venus than he remembered.

"Well, this is a surprise," Gillette winked at Theodore.

"Yes," James seconded in a hushed voice, unaware that he was the only one not expecting the additional dinner guests.

"Gentlemen." Gagliano bowed to the officers and they bowed in return; then kissing Jane's hand, "My lady."

"Missus Groves, this is my father, Nicolas Gagliano," Lucy said, patting her father's arm.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Gagliano. We are all fans of your music making."

In his mid-fifties with graying black hair and small spectacles, Mr. Gagliano politely bowed and humbly said, "Thank you, _Signora_."

Jane then turned towards the men.

"This is my husband, Captain Theodore Groves."

"It's an honor," Theodore said, standing to shake the musician's hand.

"Our friend, Captain Andrew Gillette."

"Sir," the red-headed captain bowed.

"And I am sure you already know Admiral James Norrington, though you might not recognize him out of uniform."

Lucy's eyes rested easily on the Admiral, again dressed in his simple civilian attire.

The two men bowed to one another; power sizing up power in a friendly manner. The Italian's dark eyes were twinkling, and he pointed a finger, "The Scourge of Piracy? Am I correct?"

Theodore and Andrew laughed. James smiled, for he wasn't often called out so fast.

"That's what I hear."

"I like you, Admiral. Only last year, a shipment of my brother Angelo's violins were lost to a pirate boat called the…" He paused. "The Amigos, but they were certainly no friends of these waters!"

Norrington's brow knotted.

"Yes, I remember the vessel. They were captured near Cuba and the men hanged."

"Yes!" The small Italian man clapped his hands. "And my violins were returned, thanks to you. I asked the Governor whom I should thank for their recovery and he answered, 'The Scourge of Piracy, Admiral James Norrington.'"

Norrington's heart felt light. Any man that would ship valuable goods from Europe to England wouldn't be in league with pirates or with Spain.

"Congratulations on the return of your goods, sir. We must have a drink and toast your recovery."

"Yes indeed," Theo seconded and Jane called the butler to open a bottle of fine Italian red wine."

"To James Norrington, the scourge of piracy," the small Italian offered.

James raised his glass, "To Her Majesty's Navy."

"Huzzah!" seconded the small group, except for Lucy who stood quietly at her father's side.

"Admiral, my daughter tells me that you are a fine violinist. Is this true?"

"Papa!" Lucy blushed.

Norrington's green eyes caught the rosy color in her cheeks, and he went hot when he noticed that the blush crept down her chest. Again, she was wearing a memorizing gown rendered in the fashionable French style; her dark hair neatly fashioned and powdered.

"I do scratch around a bit, but I'm afraid Miss Gagliano's assessment of 'fine' might be in question."

"Well, I must hear you for myself then."

Everyone in the room was warming quickly to the Italian violinist's bold but intensely charming manner.

"Captain and Misses Groves, my daughter and I have brought our instruments and would be honored to play for you this evening, if you wish it."

"Of course! And I have asked Andrew to bring his flute."

Gillette reddened as Norrington gave him an odd look.

"Don't look so shocked, James. You're not the only musician in Her Majesty's Navy," Andrew answered. "I took 'scratch around' a bit."

He looked at Lucy and added, "I hope you shall find me a fine musician as well, Miss Gagliano," Andrew said flirtatiously.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Gagliano. "And of course, you have your violin, Admiral?"

"Actually, I do. It is in the carriage."

"Oh, Andrew and James!" Jane exclaimed, smiling like a doting sister. "I can't wait to hear the two of you!"

"Trust me, Jane. Our playing will sound much better after sufficient lubrication," Andrew answered lifting his glass. "At least mine will."

"Yes, let's eat and then music all around," Jane called, and they exited the parlor for the dinning room.

lj-cut 

Treason


	7. Chapter 7

The Gift  
Chapter 7: Pianissimo  
Setting: Post POTC 3  
Characters: Norrington/ OFC  
Plot: A fluffy holiday love story. Who knew that James Norrington played the violin?

Lucy was sitting directly beside James and see could swear she felt a masculine heat reverberating off of him, though he was timid to make eye contact. But after two glasses of Merlot, she grew bold enough to quietly ask, "Is this Mister Norrington here tonight or the Admiral?"

His green eyes sparkled.

"I am just James amongst my friends."

"Yes, but I think my father would object to me calling you 'James'."

The bare edge of a smile creased his weatherworn face.

"And he'd probably reprimand me for calling you 'Lucy'."

Her eyes flitted between him and her wine glass. Was James Norrington a gentleman or a rogue? She hadn't quite yet decided.

"I hope I'm not to bold to call you such when we are…." He couldn't say alone, as there were others around them, deep in cups as well as conversation. "…When we are speaking in private."

"No, not at all. Hardly anyone in Port Royal calls me Lucy besides Jane and my father. I had nearly forgotten it was my name!" she jested and James blushed, questioning his own footing in this flirtation, as well.

"Are you enjoying your new violin?" Lucy finally asked.

"Yes, very much. Of course, I haven't had much time to practice, but things will quiet down nearer to the Chistmas holidays. I shall have more time then, I suppose." He looked intently into his near empty cup and added, "I only regret that I missed our date this week."

Lucy's eyes widened.

"I had no reason to come back to your music shop." Then he quickly added, "To finish Mister Haydn's newest work."

"Oh yes. Well, I have to confess I was in on your surprise." She then confided in James the background of the ruse.

"So you knew the entire time that I was Admiral Norrington?"

"To confess, I expected to see you in your uniform and recognize you by your brocade. When I first spied you through the curtain, I had no idea who you were….until I saw your eyes."

James felt his body stir, and her eyes looked hastily away then back to his.

"If you would allow me to be so bold as to say….you have the loveliest green eyes."

She added the last bit hastily, twisting her napkin within her fingers; and her compliment was a thunderbolt within him. A gentle woman had never complimented his looks before, and he held himself to be a quiet man. Especially after Elizabeth rejected him for the small, dark Mister Turner, he had begun to assume that he had some physical trait that was undesirable to the female sex…..And yet, Lucy had been looking very kindly upon him.

"I don't know how to respond," he confessed, flushed.

Lucy smirked, "Please James! I can't believe you don't get complimented on them daily."

His face looked pained.

"No. Never, actually."

She could tell that he was sincere, and her heart ached to hold him, to tell him how beautiful he was to her.

"Then let me tell you again, you have the loveliest green eyes….They reveal so much about you, and yet, they hide so much." She smiled, sadly this time. "You are a mystery to me, James."

_That_ he had heard before from a woman. At least, some women he had courted before Miss Swann had deemed him too cold and too reserved to be a desirable mate. He didn't mean to be such, yet his nature was reserved. and it so difficult to drop his shield. He wasn't a man that often left himself vulnerable, in his line of work or in his heart.

"I wonder which is your true nature? The Scourge of Piracy, Admiral Norrington, or violinist and friend Mister Norrington. Are you a warrior or are you…" She nearly said 'lover' but instead, she quietly added, "a gentlemen?"

His brow knotted.

"May a man not be both?"

Lucy laughed to lighten the mood.

"I have limited knowledge about the duality of a man's nature."

"The duality of man's nature?" he retorted. "I have yet to decide if you are Lucy the English woman or Miss Gagliano the Italian musician. Surely we are not so different then?"

Lucy smiled and considered perhaps they were more alike than she had first thought. "I consider myself both. I am whichever is needed to fit the occasion."

"And which is your true self?" He asked.

"I suppose they both are, but then again, are we never aware of our true nature until it is called into question by some outside event?" It was a rhetorical question. "Surely you'd be better prepared to answer that, than I. As a man of war, you face life and death daily, perhaps at a seconds notice and you must act; to take a life or to spare it?"

His voice hard, "Yes, I have made those decisions often, but not without cost or question."

She squeezed his hand briefly and he lifted his green eyes to her, "Admiral Norrington has made those decisions?"

"No, James Norrington has." He said in a hushed tone, body vibrating at her brief touch.

There was a sadness in his eyes and Lucy felt perhaps she had pressed him too far.

"Admiral Norrington can be removed with change of a coat and wig, but James Norrington must bare the expense of his actions. That is the reality of my true nature." He concluded.

Her smile was tender, "That you have a heart?"

"Perhaps." James contemplated her dark eyes before he decided to conclude with honesty, "And you have touched it deeply, madam."

She was silent, but dark eyes burned him and in that instant they shared a connection nearly as close as love making. His heart pounded in his chest, breathing hastened; her bosom flushed as they held each other emotionally naked. His eyes dropped to her pouting lips with longing.

Suddenly, the contact was broken as her father interjected, "_Cara_, shall we make music?"

Lucy turned quickly. Her voice answered a bit too light and frantic. "Yes, Papa! Let's make music."

The dinner guest began to rise. Standing, Lucy nodded to James, "Mister Norrington, thank you for the conversation."

"Likewise, Miss Gagliano." He bowed to avoid the chance of becoming lost again in her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

The Gift

Chapter 8: Trio

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Plot: A fluffy holiday love story. Who knew that James Norrington played the violin?

James Norrington couldn't remember a happier night in all his thirty-three years. He had played music in the company of a master Italian violinist and conversed with the most beautiful woman in the new world and now he was retiring to partake of Port Royal's finest exports, tobacco and rum, with his two most loyal friends. Certainly, he was nearing life's zenith.

"Tis' fine weed, James," Andrew concluded, a serpent of smoke exiting his lips.

Theo sucked on his pipe and asked, "From the Gravely plantation?"

"You know your tobacco," James answered, filling his own small wooden pipe.

"I do hope smoking doesn't become too popular in England. I should hate to think we'd have to export the best of it," Andrew lamented.

"The best will always go the Gravely's friends, which include Admiral James Norrington, Andrew."

Theo and Andrew lifted their pipes with a salute of, "Huzzah!"

James laughed -- the rich, weedy smoke rolling from his nostrils.

"So tobacco is the price of your friendship?"

"Yes, I'd say so, sir," Andrew answered with his usual wry, teasing tone. At that moment, a servant entered with tankards of hot rum which the men took and drank from deeply.

"Theo, not that I mind your hospitality," James said, swallowing a swig of the sweet grog. "But this evening's festivities seem a bit rich, even for a man of your high tastes. Is there anything else we should be celebrating tonight?"

Groves smiled secretly, as a log cracked and popped on the fire.

"No one can hide things from you, James," he said as he looked up, something anticipatory in his face. "I am to be a father."

"Well, Theo, you're not impotent after all!" Andrew quipped. "Congratulations!"

"I can think of no two people who deserve happiness more than you and Jane," James added thoughtfully, and Theodore answered with a quiet, heartfelt, "Thank you."

Andrew stood and put down his tankard.

"Theodore, you'll make an excellent father." Then, picking up his hat, "I only hope that Jane bears you son who I can take drinking or….a daughter I can marry," he added mirthfully as he placed his tricorn on his head.

Theodore unsteadily stood and raised a fist.

"If I wasn't in my cups, I'd beat you for that, Gillette, you French pig!"

"Oink! Oink!" Andrew laughed, bobbing his hat. "Goodnight, gentlemen, my fair lady calls."

James was laughing heartily and in no mood to leave quite yet and return to his lonely bed.

"Refill your pipe, Norrington."

Groves offered him the cedar box of dried stock.

"I believe I will," he answered contentedly and set about his work.

"For a damned Royal Naval Captain, Gillette holds fast to his French mistress."

"Is that whom he's off to see? Lizette, the baker's daughter?"

"Aye, is there another?" Theodore asked, taking a long drag on his pipe. "He should just marry the girl, make an honest woman out of her."

Norrington crossed his legs.

"But the man has his career to think of, first and foremost."

"And his happiness," Theodore added sternly, and James knew his harsh tone was a comment on his own feelings for Lucy. After a long silence, Groves added, "It seems you and Miss Gagliano were deep in conversation tonight."

"Yes," James sucked at his pipe, letting the hot smoke burn deeply in his lungs.

"She is a most spectacular woman -- beautiful, talented and refined. She will make some man a very fine wife."

James had to chuckle.

"Theo, your worse than these match-making mamas!"

"I'm far better, James," Theo sniffed. "I'm not tossing judies at you, I'm just giving you what you want."

James leaned forward in the leather chair.

"And you think I want Lucy Gagliano?"

With a broad grin, Theo answered, "I think you want her very much. The question….do you desire her as a wife or as a mistress?...Perhaps this is the same question you're asking yourself."

"Aye," Norrington replied sinking back into the chair and realizing he was slightly drunk; for it was the only time that he allowed himself to speak like a common sailor. "But would she have a keeper?" Then taking another drag, he mused to himself more than to Theo, "And am I the kind of man that who have a mistress?"

"From what Jane says of her, she's innocent….If that is dilemma that's has plagued you," Groves stated knowingly.

"Is she certain?" he replied in a low voice, face dimly lit against the flame of his pipe.

"I suppose as certain as any woman could be about another. It seems you have two options. You could ask her yourself or you could bed her."

Norrington's insides twisted. He'd never been with an innocent and had no intentions of doing so outside the bonds of the Church of England.

"If you love her, does it make any matter?" Theo asked, taking a short swig of rum from the tankard he worried in his hands. "We hold English women to a high standard, while we noble Englishmen plunder trollops like Spanish conquistadors."

Even if he had only very limited experience in the area, James had to agree.

"I suppose your right." Then standing, he announced, "It's getting late."

It was a redundant thing to say, as it had been very very late for some time now. Grove approached his Admiral and took a firm hold of his arm.

"It is for you to give the orders and only for me to give advice."

He was tired of looking into James's defeated green eyes.

"Court her, sir. Not long, but shortly and then get thee wed. You deserve happiness more than any man I have ever known."

Norrington smiled at his friend's words.

"Thank you Theo," he said, removing his tricorn from the hat rack and placing it on his head. "I think I shall take your advice to heart in this area, as you and Jane are obviously experts in such matters."

"Rightly so, sir. Rightly so." Theodore Grove concluded with private huzzah!

When Sunday church concluded, Admiral Norrington shirked his usual lunch at The White Cockade, Port Royal's only club, and instead headed towards a small alley off High Street. For when the admiral had a target in sight, it was not in his nature to hold back. He smiled and whispered, "Lucy Gagliano, prepare to be fired upon!"


	9. Chapter 9

"**The Gift"**

**Chapter 9**

James Norrington wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say when he saw Lucy, but he wasn't concerned. Still intoxicated from last night's conversation, he felt she'd be happy to see him today, whatever the reason. But….that being said, he realized Lucy's lack of a mother would make his attempt to court her more complicated. 

From his own experience courting young women (and there had been a few Port Royal females that he had called upon after his commission to Admiral) chaperoning and dates were usually decided upon by an overbearing mother…..and perhaps this was one of the reasons he disliked courting the young, doe-eyed types. Of course, Elizabeth Swann hadn't a mother, but it was simpler with her due to his long relationship with Weatherby and the family. 

Then was Mrs. Peterson -- a young widow whom he called upon several times during his Captain years, thinking she might make a pleasant wife. She had a lovely smile and offered pleasing conversation…and it didn't take him long to find out that Mrs. Peterson was quite pleasing physically, as well-- which didn't stop his visits, but it did halt his ideas for marriage. Anyway, the young widow soon found someone wealthier than a simple captain. James suddenly realized that was the last time that he had been intimate with a woman.

_Has it been five years?_ James suddenly felt an uncomfortable strain against his breeches. He had tried to avoid sins of the flesh, even self-inflicted sin, and he usually controlled such thoughts by throwing himself into work, music, or vigorous horseback exercise. Yet recently, with Lucy Gagliano warming his heart and his feeling that perhaps this was a good woman within his grasp, he now allowed his mind to wander more than it should. 

James arrived at the shop door and adjusted his waistcoat to cover the bulge in his pants. _Perhaps if things go well today, she will not object to a quick courtship._

Suddenly, his keen eye realized that something was off; the door of the shop hung slightly ajar, and he pushed it open.

"Miss Gagliano?" 

It was silent and then he heard the faintest of sobs -- Lucy, to be sure. Striding into the shop with a tight grip on his sword, he pushed aside the trailing velvet curtains without hesitation.

Lucy's face was tear-streaked and a wailed, "Oh James! She's dead!" and collapsed into his arms. He grasped her small body, rested her head on his chest, and stroked her dark hair.

"Who is it that you mourn so for?"

"The Viscountess of Tweeksbury, Anne Margrave," Lucy sniffed, still crying. "A pox took her suddenly, and I never told her..."

She sobbed a bit more, leaving off words that were too late to be spoken. Still, James held her tightly.

"She was like a mother to me!"

"There, there," he stroked her long hair and quivering back like a loving brother. But suddenly, she pushed back, wiping at her face with the back of her hand.

"I am so sorry that you…you found me this way." 

All her defenses were down, and he knew in that instant that he loved her.

"Lucy," he said, touching her cheek. "It is good to mourn those we love. I, too, have lost my mother."

She began to sob hard again, and he caught her as she nearly collapsed, all her weight resting in his strong arms.

"If only I had told her how much...how much she meant to me!" She cried, burying her head in the blue wool and golden brocade of his jacket.

"I'm sure she knew," he whispered and chastely placed a kiss on her forehead as she snuggled deeper into his arms. the crown of her head and she snuggled deeper into his arms. Never had it felt so right and so innocent to hold a woman in his arms. He adored her….her scent, her beauty, her tears.

"What is going on here!"

Suddenly, the angry voice of Nicolas Gagliano filled the small room.

"Papa!"

Lucy pulled back immediately and rushed to her father's arms.

"The Viscountess has died!"

Norrington stepped back, knowing that the situation occurring in the music shop's back room made their moment seem less than honorable.

"Admiral." The dark Italian's eyes were sharp. "I think you should leave."

James didn't speak but only nodded and quickly strode past the father and daughter, careful to keep his face stoic and his eyes distant.

Monday morning, James felt complete rung out and he could not even bring himself to work Monday morning. He couldn't help but think that his hopes for making a good impression were ruined.

"Dash it!" he cursed, pushing all his paperwork to the floor…..He needed to take action. Sharpening his quill, he decided to write Lucy an apology….or perhaps, a note of endearment.

_Dear Miss Gagliano,_

I was most upset to see you lost in melancholy for your dear friend, the Viscountess. It's not in my nature to easily witness the pain of such a gracious young lady, but if I indeed out-stepped the bounds of proper friendship with my need to comfort you, then I offer you and your father my most humble and sincere apologies.

I came to your home yesterday morn on the hopes of conveying to you how much your recent friendship has impressed upon me a great feeling of joy, and I wish to know (if you feel of like mind) if I might ask for the privilege of your company during the holidays. 

What I am trying to say, Miss Gagliano, is that I wish to court you. If this idea is a repulsion to you, then throw out this letter; and I shall no more press my company upon you. But, if there is some chance that you feel of like mind towards me, then I beg of you to answer this letter and let me know how best a man who holds you in the highest, honorable esteem might better acquaint himself with you. 

Your humble servant,

Admiral James Norrington, R.N.  
  
Forty minutes later, her answer arrived.

_My dearest Admiral Norrington,_

There is no need for you to send apologies! I was in a bitter state, and only the bosom of friendship coupled with strong arms lent me the support needed to quiet my sorrow and lighten my heart.

As for your offer of courtship, I accept with great pleasure! I, too, have enjoyed our brief conversations and wish to further develop our mutual friendship and shared musical curiosity.

My father would like to invite you to our family dinner this Thursday evening at seven o'clock. It is a modest affair, but your presence would be greatly honor us. Please send indication if you find this acceptable. 

Sincere Regards,

Miss Lucy Gagliano

One _Huzzah!_ to himself and ten minutes later:

_My dearest Miss G,_

I would be honored to dine at your home this Thursday evening.

_  
Yours,  
J._


	10. Chapter 10

The Gift

Chapter 10: Meld

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Plot: A fluffy holiday love story. Who knew that James Norrington played the violin?

The 'woolgathering' is a nod to Mrs. N.

lj-cut text meld 

Placing his Capricorn beneath his left arm, he knocked at the door of the music store and a maid answered, leading him up the backstairs into a small parlor.

"Admiral Norristown, welcome," the Italian violin master's lips were stretched into a broad smile which indicated to James all was forgiven regarding their accidental run in on Sunday.

"Mister Gagliano," He bowed to the man and then to the daughter, "Miss Gagliano."

"Admiral Norrington," Her dark eye warm and comforting, "Welcome to our home. May we offer you a glass of wine?"

"Thank you, ma'am."

Lucy smiled, secretly admiring his fine uniform of a white frock coat and navy jacket trimmed in gold naval lace and adorned with brass buttons; cuff heavy.

Their conversation was light as the three drank an aperitif. Yet, Norrington was the Admiral tonight not only in appearance but also in manner and etiquette. His uniform his armor and where this might have pushed most women away, it only intrigued Lucy more. She had a strange urge to strip away his hard, polished exterior; to push aside his brass buttons and dig through his wollen layers to his heart.

"...Miss Gagliano?"

"Sorry, Admiral, I was woolgather," she offered, a blush creeping into her skin.

His lips pushed into a smile, "My I escort you to dinner?" He asked, his elbow crooked.

"Yes, of course!" She answered a bit rushed and linked her arm through his and she could feel his male energy as taunt as a violin E string against her senses.

Mister Gagliano was very engaging with James and it was apparent to Norrington whatever missteps he had taken Sunday afternoon by embracing Lucy were forgiven.

"Sir, Doctor Ingram is here," the maid interrupted their dinner of Italian meatballs, stewed tomatoes and pasta.

Before the Gaglianos could respond, a balding blond head poked around the corner, "Buona sera, Miss Lucy!" The man announced in poor Italian, then adding, "Oh dear, I didn't realize you had company."

Mister Gagliano stood, removing his table napkin with a flourish, "Doctor Ingram," he bowed swiftly, "May I assist you?"

Norrington took account of Lucy's strained expression and then turned in his chair to face the town's physician; a thin Dutchman dressed in scholarly black with moon- calf eyes and a large, protruding nose.

"Doctor Ingram," Norrington bid him a civil, firm address.

"Admiral Norrington, a pleasure as always sir," the doctor bowed, then turning his eyes back to Gagliano, realizing that he was indeed outranked by the Naval officer, "I have come to pick up the cane that I ordered for my oboe reeds. I did not mean to interrupted this...gathering of friends."

Lucy sighed, as she began to push back her chair; she was in no mood to cater to the doctor.

"No, Lucy. I shall assist Doctor Ingram. Come sir, I am done with dinner, let's look over the carving of your reeds."

Norrington stood as Mister Gagliano began to leave the table.

"Admiral Norrington, I have the most delicious dessert wine. Cook will open it for you, please stay and make yourself by pleasant by our fire." Then smiling knowingly to his daughter, "Lucy, entertain our guest."

"Yes, Papa."

Norrington bowed as Gagliano and the doctor exited down the stairs.

"Thank goodness, I've been saved!" She exclaimed.

James raised a questioning brow, "Am I to surmise that Doctor Ingram has more than just an interested in oboe reeds."

"Unfortunately, yes. Not that he isn't a fine man, but," she laughed. "He treats me more like a student of the sciences that a lady he wishes to woo. If I have to hear one more lecture on Newton and the joy he feels when contemplating the generalized binomial theorem, I shall burst!"

James laughed aloud and Lucy rejoice that he seemed more relaxed with the absence of her father.

"My goodness, remind me never to explain the workings of a naval craft to you!"

"No, good Admiral!" She leaned forward, her face serious, "I should enjoy knowing the workings of a naval ship or naval law and codes as you have an easy way with words; much better than our physician. Besides, you don't speak to me as a student or as a woman. You speak with me as... a friend. I could listen to you read from a map and find it of the greatest interest!"

"Dear Lucy," He shook his head, enjoying her compliment. "I shall endeavor not to read maps to you, I promise. Surely friends can find better subjects to converse upon than latitudes and longitudes!"

"I agree." Lucy laughed. "Perhaps over a glass of sherry or bermet we shall think of something else to converse upon?"

"Yes, definitely." Norrington stood, and helped Lucy from her chair, their hands briefly brushing.

Together they toasted themselves nicely by the cracking parlor fire and even in his naval attire, James reflected on how comfortable and cozy he felt tucked in the petite sitting room with Lucy Gagliano by his side on the small sofa.

They conversed for a while on various subjects, hearing Mister Gagliano and the maid move around the house, but being left in private.

"Would your father mind us sitting here together?" It was a bold question, but the sherry was lubricating his tongue.

"I think he intended you to sit in the parlor," she answered, voice innocent.

James smiled into the amber liquid, "I meant, so close on this sofa?"

"Well, I don't know that he's ever caught me sitting on the sofa with a gentlemen before." Tilting her head to the side, "I can either move or we can risk his reaction."

His green eyes were quick and his gaze yearning, "I think we should risk it."

"I would expect a seafaring man to choose risk." She said in a low voice, her fingers entwining over his; her chest rising and falling quickly.

"Calculated risk, madam." James replied, stroking her fingers in return.

"But when you are on a sea and you are tossed about in your little boat amongst a great storm," Lucy began moving closer, lessening the space between them. "Then must you forget the calculations of the mind and trust the instincts of your heart; yes?"

His voice was but an exhale, "Yes."

With her black lashes low, he dipped his head and sealed the space between them with a chaste kiss. It was very brief, and when he pulled back, she raised a hand to rest upon his collar.

"With the heart, James, not with the head," she whispered hotly against his lips, her breath burning him.

Memorized by her words, he leaned in a second time. This time, her soft lips pushed his apart and tongues darting against one another with tentative exploration. Lucy had intended to crack his armor, but under his spell and within his arm, she was loosing her own head as well.

Finally relenting, her blush splotching the soft skin of her chest. "Oh my!" She exclaimed lifting a trembling hand to her lips. "A risk worth taking, indeed!"

Norrington was nearly shaking with desire, his body screaming and then, he grinned broadly, green eyes dancing, "Lucy Gagliano." He said her name with pleasure, "You make me happy."

"And you make me happy too, James." She replied to Norrington as he brought her knuckles to his lips with a swift kiss.

"Marry me." He said quickly.

"Wh---" She drew back a little, "We've only known each other such a short time."

Bound up with an energy that bubbled over from an unknown source, he pressed on, "You are the one who said we should take a risk; that we should listen to our hearts." His brow knotted and his voice extolled, "I...I love you, Lucy."

She gasped and withdrew her hand.

He stood quickly and leaning hard against the mantel, "I have been to bold. I appol--"

"No, no!" She stood now, not far behind him and she took his hand, silence filling the room. "Is this where your heart truly lies?"

He turned to her now, those words ringing familiar. "Yes." Not he knew exactly how Elizabeth had felt two years ago when the tables had been turned. Surely, love is mated with madness!

He replied soundly. "I tried to deny it these past weeks, but you warm my heart Lucy." Then stroking her check, his words sounding a little more desperate than he intended. "I would be a good husband to you."

"James," she took his hand and grasped it solidly. "I have nothing to offer you."

"I only ask for your respect and I will pray for your love if you can not give it to me yet." He looked down at her small hands, "A man and a woman must have respect between them to make a husband and wife, and I know we have that." His eyes expressed his fear and Lucy instinctively wished to sooth him.

She was being offered a proposal of marriage to a very young and respected Rear-Admiral of the Royal Navy; a man that she truly liked. Yet, did she love him? Was love important in a marriage? She wasn't sure what love felt like; but respect, she knew that she respected him above all men she knew next to her father.

"Yes, I can give you my respect, James and as for the second," her eyes lowered, she pleaded, "Give me time?"

James nodded and held silent. It wasn't exactly the answer he wished to hear. Did his face show his disappointment?

"I'm doing this all wrong!" Lucy pulled away violently, then placing her hands on her hips, she turned on her heel before James could speak, "James Norrington, you have pulled on my heart strings like no other man, but to give freely those three words," she shook her head in bewilderment, "I don't even know what they mean! Please, I beg you; give me patience to say them!"

"Of course," he replied, still concerned if this was an acceptance of his proposal or a denial.

Then the tears started. "Oh dear! Here I go like a fountain!" She laughed and cried.

"Lucy-", he reached for her and she took his hand in gratitude.

"If you can have me on such conditions, on the hope that I can love, then yes, James." She smiled as tears streamed down her cheeks, "Yes, I'll marry you!"

Returning her smile, he took her into his arms, kissing her forehead. "When can I speak to your father?"

Nicolas Gagliano was surprised, but when he questioned Lucy upon her decision in the matter, he knew right away his daughter was very pleased. The marriage would occur at the end of January giving enough time for Lucy Gagliano to officially finalize her protestant confirmation, for the church to read the bands of marriage and for James Norrington to properly introduce Lucy Gagliano as his fiancée to Port Royal society.

"Damn it, I'm a lucky man!" He told himself as he nearly skipped down High Street whistling Handel's Hallelujah Chorus theme to the dark, misty night. He was just past the bakery when he heard footsteps. He stopped and they stopped. He walked, and they trailed behind him; their owner cloaked in night's heavy blanket of fog.

James ducked into an alley. His breathing heavy as he wondered if this could be the Spanish spy that Gillette spoke of? He cursed himself for walking alone on a night such as this in his uniform. It made him an easy target for conspirators against the Crown. The footsteps ceased and then started again in a run.

Suddenly, a form passed the alley in which Norrington was ensconced, with one arm he reached out and grabbed the man; easily tossing him against the brick wall. Then taking out his sword, he drew the his blade against his neck.

"If you value your life, speak!" He declared in anger, nostrils flaring. "Why are you following me?"

The short wiry man in worn clothing balked in a language that resembled German and finally, exclaimed, "I'm not following you, Kapitän."

Norrington pushed his against the wall harder, and the man sputtered. The blade about to cut, "Speak the truth this time!" He warned, green eyes as cold as Toledo steel.

"I only wished to know if," he coughed and mumbled in a thick accent, "If you have work at the fort? I am carpenter recently arrived from Berlin, Kapitän."

Norrington snarled. The second answer of the night that he didn't agree with. Taking the man by the collar he hauled him roughly into the street. Thankfully two red coats of his acquaintance were passing by.

"Sergent Mullroy, take this man to the fort." Then looking down at the skulker, he added with a cold, English sneer, "Show him our accommodation for traders to the Crown."

"Oh, aye sir," Mullroy saluted, and took the cowering man by the collar.

"Murtog, you will give me safe passage home." His eyes now scanning the dark waters of the Caribbean sea, a black mist rolling in from the midnight tide. "There is a foul wind in these water and I fear its bears a treasonous odor."

Murtog looked throughly confused upon hearing the Admiral's mysterious words, but he saluted merrily all the same, "Yes, sir!"

And with an uneasy step, Norrington adjourned home.

lj-cut 


	11. Chapter 11

The Gift

Chapter 11: Aria

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Finally-- SMUT warning!!

lj-cut Aria 

Nothing became of the German nor had there been any further sign of Barbossa as the week progressed. Although, Admiral Norrington was finding no great success in his current military ventures (no sign of pirates or papist spies ), his personal affairs were as bright as the Christmas star.

He had visited Lucy three times this week which only intensified his feelings and his confidence in their match. They had become fast friends and although she would not give him a decoration of love, he easily accepted her kind words and her warm fingers as they often brushed against his in flirtation and affection.

Tonight's party at the Gravely's plantation home had been another great success for the couple and all of Port Royal seemed eager to celebrate in the young Admiral's happy engagement to the master violinist's daughter. Although Norrington's father had been gentry (although of a lesser standing), Sir Issac Norrington of Blackwater, Norrington was a seventh son and a made man thanks to his courageous and successful naval career. Therefore, the matriarchs of Port Royal deemed Lucy lucky for marrying up and Norrington equally as lucky for marrying beauty and grace. Already, people were declaring the Norrington/ Giuliano affair 'a love match'.

Finally, after several hours of bowing, dancing, polite conversation and a few crying daughters (many young ladies had hung their hearts out for James although he was usually to thick to notice); Lucy and James entered his private carriage alone.

A broad smile spread across his face, shinning in his eyes, "I believe they like you!"

"They already liked me!" Lucy balked, linking hands with the admiral. "What they liked is having their 'darling Norrington' finally nearing the altar!"

"There were a lot of 'darlings' tonight, weren't there? I must confess, I do believe you've made me much more popular with the ladies." He smirked playfully.

"You may be popular with the ladies all you like, James." Lucy rebuked, coolly removing his tricorn. "But only for another month and then..." She smiled like a cat in cream.

"And then?" He leaned closely and they kissed.

Simultaneously, a bump in the road propelled Lucy forward with an, "Oh!" And she bounced in Norrington's lap.

"Wasn't that fortuitous?" His voice seared with need as his arms wrapped around her, lips pressing against her exposed neck.

"Oh James!" Lucy exclaimed, as an exotic heat claimed her; a thunder bolt of electricity shot from his lips, down her neck to her womanly parts which throbbed with an unknown need. She didn't completely understand the magic of James' kisses or the response of her own body, but she had a feeling she would greatly enjoy the exploration.

"Lucy," he moaned, "If you only understood what you do to me."

Swiveling in his lap, her hands lifted to his chin and she lead him forward into temptation with a deep, muscular kiss. He easily played Adam to her Eve, enjoying the loss of control to her strong will.

"We are a fiancéed, James. Show me something," her dark eyes search his with a penetrating desire for knowledge, "Show me something that lovers do."

James couldn't move, but his mind raced with possibilities. Suddenly, they hit another bump and Lucy bounced off his lap to land beside him on the carriage bench. Her hands clinched tightly to his lapels, his fingers wrapped around her upper arms.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes," she said, then moving her hand down his jacket to rest against his thigh, her eyes taking in the knot beneath his breeches, she asked, "Are you?" It was a question with two possible answers.

Again, he was nearly speechless and her hand traveled in circular undulations against his buff trousers. His eyes, looking stunned, moved from her hand back to her eyes.

"Is this wrong?" She asked tentatively, her hand moving but an inch from his manhood.

"I don't know." He replied. _Was she asking physically or morally?_

She laughed a little bit, then leaning forward, nuzzling his neck with kisses. "I only know what girls' whisper about behind bedroom doors." Then nibbling up his hot, pulsing neck, she whispered in his ear, "Show me what to do."

His fingers were cold and his chest pounded quickly as he boldly moved her small hand from his thigh to his hard desire fearing her rejection and disgust. With a tentative hand atop hers, he guided her in a few strokes along his aching body and was unable to contain a responsive moan.

Her fingertips tighten against the ridge of britches and she stroked him independently as his other hand cradled about her shoulders, messaging the warm, naked skin of her shoulders.

"I don't wish to trouble you, Lucy." He finally forced himself to speak.

"You don't." Her breath was hot against his ear, "Do I please you James?"

He lifted her chin to look into the eyes of a siren, his voice a rough. "You please me beyond my dreams."

With his approval, she continued her stroking with more eagerness and his control began to shatter, taking her into both his hands, he kissed her deeply and begged with shame, "Please...take me in your hands, love."

Lucy was deeply enjoying the new found power of being called love, but she didn't really understand James' request until he began to unbutton his britches with haste. With her left hand, she stroked his heated forehead and kissed his stubbled jaw fervently as the fingertips of her right hand met with hot, tender flesh. She was surprised at the smoothness and the warmth of his maleness.

"Oh god!!" He cried into her shoulder as her fingers, unafraid, closed around the bulging head of his erection. Rocking and pulling with an ever increasing rhythm, she finally drove him to crush her against his massive chest with firm arms.

His eyes were clinched and the most beautiful expression of pain shattered his face, "Oh god! Oh Lucy!" He cried again until a hot liquid exploded in her hands.

Lucy smiled, now intimately familiar with a man's body, holding his seed within her hands, she asked, "Umm... James, might you have a handkerchief?"

Immediately James whipped forth a large white handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to clean her hands and wipe the sticky film from his nakedness. He was quite comfortable with nakedness, but it was uncomfortable having his fiancée watch him so intensely.

Sensing his discomfort, "Is this suppose to be done in private? This 'cleaning up' of things?"

He was buttoning his britches now, uncertain how to answer. "I suppose it can be done in either way."

She could feel the armor going back on and she wanted their intimate moment to last longer, as it was still several miles back to town. It also reminded her that once they were married, she would be able to gawk at his lovely nakedness all she liked and again, she smiled.

In silence, he pulled her to chest, stroking her now disheveled hair. "How much do you know about men and women, Lucy?" He paused and quietly added, "Intimately?"

She snuggled her head beneath her chin; to him, she would enjoy playing the student. "I know what was taught to the ladies of the house and I know what was whispered in gossip," then turning her head upwards, "And I shall rely on my husband to teach me the rest." Cocking her head to one side, "Did I not please you?"

Kissing her forehead and exclaiming, "Immensely! You are prize student."

More silence and then lowly, "Are you aware that a man may please a woman as well?" This lesson had been taught him late in life-- God bless Mrs. Peterson!

Lucy's brow knotted. "You mean during..." She didn't a proper English word for it, "during _l'amour_."

James smiled, he liked playing the professor to his wife-to-be. "Well, yes that can bring joy to both partners," he coughed as he thoughtfully added, "But we better hold off on that until our wedding night."

Secretly, he wished that she'd object to waiting, but when he looked down upon her in the moonlight, he could see that was eagerly nodding, "Yes, that should wait until we're wed."

His fingertips stroked her protruding collar bone."I was thinking of touch. There is a place I could touch you Lucy that would give you great pleasure." His voice was velvety low and she delighted in hearing James make such naughty suggestions.

Silence. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it's only a touch." He stroked, her fingers gently. "Not penetration," his eyes burnt her skin, "Though I'm told that this kind of touch will ease the pain of our conjoining for you; on our wedding night that is."

Damn it, he'd never in his life spoken to a woman, a lady, so bold. Yet, she was to be his wife, was it not correct that he should school her in the ways of men and women?

Her breathing hitched, and again she felt a throbbing between her legs. "Would you think me scarlet if I were to inquire more?"

He was nervous, but he desired to touch her as well. He wished to claim her, if only with his fingers. "No. We are to be wed." Pulling her into his lap, he kissed, "And besides that, I want to touch you darling." Kissing her again, this time with ownership, voice dropping low, "I want to feel you."

As he kissed her, cradling her with one arm around her waist, she felt his palm travel up her skirts, skimming along her stocking, her garters and finally meeting naked thigh. There, as he kissed her, his fingertips pressed against the damp cotton of her knickers. She jerked, as they parted her French pantaloons and squeezed against her womanly parts.

Even as she jerked, he held her close, refusing to break their kiss, refusing to hear any rejection that she might have of his exploration. She moaned into his mouth as he damped his fingers, every so slightly sliding a finger into her silken heat as she cried out against his lips with need and want, as bold as a courtesan.

Finally, she pushed away from his kiss begging, "I must breathe. Don' t stop; please.. don't stop!"

This certainly wasn't lady like behavior as her shoes were lost and her legs were spread and braced against the facing carriage seat, giving James and his hands full license for exploration. She bucked and purred against him, his free hand, pulling down her bodice and pinching her nipples, Lucy cried out in pleasure and in pain until his torture was too much and her body popped like a broken string. Her legs contracted and she fell to the floor of the carriage crying.

"Lucy!" James heaved her up, the heavy musk of her body still sweetly clinging to him. "Are you alright?"

She cried more, his voice harsher than he intended "Speak to me!"

"That was wonderful. I have never known that was possible ," she cried, " and yet, I feel as if I am...I am wanton! Because," She balded, "I enjoyed it greatly."

Norrington laughed, "No, you are as God made you; I am certain." He rocked her, "Perhaps we have explored too much tonight." Then James kissed her shoulder gently saying, "I am sorry if I pushed you further than you wished to go."

But secretly, he was prideful that he'd given her her first lesson in loving making-- even it was only with his hands, he'd been the first to lay claim on this virgin prize. He had claimed, even if it was in a manner below their station, petting each other in the back of carriage. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered Theodore on the quarter deck saying of Elizabeth Swann, "Claim her tonight, sir and she will have no choice."

He had acted honorably that evening, taking confidence in her words; false words they proved with a very sharp public dismissal. He refused to let that happen again. He hated himself for not being able to trust Lucy for Elizabeth's sins, but so be it. He had claimed her physically and he knew she would not withdrawal from his proposal now.

"No, dear James." She sighed, "We have explored just enough to gain satisfaction and to spark further curiosity after our banns are read, of course."

"Good." He looked out the carriage window to dark Caribbean sea and smirked, the voice of the admiral was arrogant and strong, "I promise you Lucy, you shall not be disappointment in our marriage ... or in our marriage bed."

Lucy Giuliano hoped that was a frequent promise.

lj-cut 


	12. Chapter 12

The Gift

Chapter 12: Saltarello

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

A little slashy smut here. Tipping my tricorn to you Gillette lovers. :) Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the reviews!

lj-cut text Saltarello 

Midnight dawned as James paced the floor boards of his town home in apprehension.

_What am I missing? _he mused to the darkness. He threw open the veranda parlor doors and glared at the silent sea, a cool wind blowing from the North. It had been quiet these past weeks….nearly too quiet. And that left him wondering, "Where are you Barbossa?"

With a restless mind and no desire to sleep, he picked up his violin and lit candles on each side of the music stand before choosing Bach Chaconne in D minor -- a dark composition for a dark night.

Six miles away Lucy was packing up her sheet music for the evening when a knock sounded on the door. Thinking her father had just arrived home from a late night engagement, she opened the door only to find the dirty, rotting faces of pirates. The next moment she was sinking into blackness...

"Miss Gagliano... Lucy! Lucy!" A voice called to her in the darkness. It was a man, but it wasn't James.

"Mm…" She rubbed her sore head and finally opened her eyes to the dim light only to see Andrew Gillette, his face twisted in concern and distress.

"Thank god, you're awake!" He said in a very loud whisper.

"Captain Gillette." Lucy began to rise then felt the floor shift beneath her, and her eyes widened. "We're on a ship!"

"Yes," he nodded. "A pirate ship…The Golden Bones I'd say. They knocked me out, as well. I woke only a few minutes before you."

The young captain looked less tense now and more put out with himself.

"Are you shackled?" She asked, standing up and slowly bracing herself against a post in what she surmised to be the captain's cabin.

_Clank. Clank_. He moved his feet and his wrists.

"Yes."

"Oh dear." She instantly moved to him and began to inspect the locks.

"There's no use, Miss. There's only one key, and I'm sure Barbossa has it."

Lucy felt as if she'd suddenly been struck in the stomach.

"Barbossa? He makes men walk the plank!"

"I'd say that's mostly gossip." At least he hoped it was.

"Don't look so worried, this is probably just a ploy for ransom," he said quickly in tight voice that didn't sound so certain.

"Surely you don't believe that! It's no coincidence that both James' fiancé and his best friend have been kidnapped!" Lucy exclaimed. "It's revenge."

Andrew sighed and looked away.

"We must stay positive, Miss Gagliano, and at the first chance, try to escape."

"To where?" She stood looked out a window. "We're in the middle of the sea!"

"That's right, missy!" Said a voice shaded with a Liverpool brogue. They both turned to find a man wearing a very large hat with excessive plumage who had turned to lock the door behind him with a large brass key. Andrew gulped.

"What do you want Barbossa?"

The man's purple lips quivered.

"That will be _Captain_ Barbossa from you." Then turning his yellow eyes on Lucy, pressed against the wall next to where Andrew sat, he asked politely, "Will you join me in a drink, my dear _signora_?"

But her dark eyes only flashed with anger.

"No! Tell us what you want."

Barbossa scratched lightly at his ear as he walked toward her casually and glided a twisted finger across her bodice.

"I want many things….But perhaps I should start with you?"

"Don't!" Andrew pulled against his shackles, and Barbossa immediately backhanded him then laughed manically.

"Don't worry, captain I'm more fun than that."

Jerking up Gillette by his shoulders, he half walked half dragged him to the middle of the dim chamber where he proceeded to take out a knife and the pocketed key.

"Now I'd like you to make yourself more comfortable. When I remove your shackles, you're going to remove your clothing. Your coat, waistcoat and shirt, that is."

Andrew's nostrils flared, when Barbossa leaned very close to his ear.

"Make this easy for the girl, because if you give me trouble…she'll be your whipping boy. Savvy?"

Thrusting out his wrists, Andrew's eyes glared.

"Take them off."

But as soon as Andrew began to undress, Lucy threw herself on Barbossa. He easily backhanded her across the chamber where she fell hard against the wall. Then quickly he turned his blade back to Andrew's neck and brought forth a prick of blood that ran in a thin slow line over the curve of his adam's apple and downward. Gillette's chest heaved as he commanded, "Lucy, be still!"

Barbossa smirked, his rotten teeth black and stinking.

"Good manners, Cap. Especially for a Frenchie."

"I'm English," Gillette answered strongly, pushing forward both his wrists.

"Yes," purred the Golden Bones captain, and with a heavy clank clasped Gillette's wrists tightly with the irons. Then he lifted the shackles to rest on a hook at the top of wooden column, stretching out the man's body. Andrew closed his eyes, as he felt his ankles being released and his legs pushed apart. He'd seen enough men flogged at sea for drunkenness or insubordination to know he was now facing the cat o'nine tails himself.

Barbossa's throaty laugh rang in his ears.

"Get up you, my pretty."

And shuffling sounded behind him.

"Now my dear. Have you ever used the cat?"

She didn't reply.

"I'll take that as 'no.' Its proper name is the cat o' nine tails here but as we're on such good close terms, Lucy, we'll just call it the cat. No need for formalities."

"It is Miss Gagliano, Captain, and I won't do this!"

"You will or I'll do it by the blade!"

Andrew felt a steel point pressing against his side.

"He'll be no use to you dead!"

"Perhaps not, but I'll still have you, pet."

Lucy was quiet for a moment, and he could feel the strain in the air as she struggled with what to do.

"Andrew?!"

Gillette couldn't see what was happening, and he didn't want to.

"Do as he says, Lucy," he commanded.

The whip came down, but he barely felt it.

"Again!" Yelled Barbossa.

And again it came down with the same weak flail.

"Give me that!"

Suddenly, the pain hit him like fire, and Andrew flinched as the cat ripped against the flesh of his back, but he refused to cry out. Lucy began to cry as Barbossa's whip cracked down again and again, incessant.

"Stop! STOP!!" She cried, throwing herself onto the pirate captain's arm.

"Maybe you'll just enjoy watching, Lucy," replied Barbossa as he grabbed her wrists and bound them to a beam opposite of Andrew's. "Or is it Lucrezia, dear?"

"You pig!" She spat.

"Come now, Lulu. I do believe that hurt my feelings," he quipped. Then spinning on his heel, he furiously brought down the cat on Andrew's back.

"Stop! Please stop!" She cried out.

"Yes, Lucy! Yes! Tell me how you want me to stop!"

She could hear the exhilaration in Barbossa's voice and realized that her cries only excited Barbossa's whip. Sobbing, the leather thongs came to rest, and suddenly the captain was pulling down Gillette's britches to his knees.

"Andrew!" She screamed with all her power, twisting violently against her bonds, cutting the soft flesh around her wrists.

"Don't watch, Lucy. Close your eyes!" Andrew commanded, and she instantly obeyed for the sake of his dignity.

Whish, whack!

The cat again cracked against Gillette's back, this time drawing out a groan of pain.

"Silence, you scourge!"

Then turning to Lucy, Barbossa spoke sweetly.

"Your eyes will be open every minute, dear."

Walking up to her, he pinched her chin roughly.

"I want you to watch," he seethed, spit dripping from his lips.

Then he turned back to Andrew, first removing his velvet coat then unbuttoning his own britches. Lucy's mind raced, and she suddenly understood what torture he was about to inflict upon Andrew. Her stomach churned with disgust, and with a dramatic sigh, she pretended to faint.

"Don't do this, Barbossa. It's punishable by death!" Andrew yelled, gripping the chains so tightly his fingers were beginning to bleed.

"I'm already a pirate," he laughed haughtily. "Now sir, I'd like to give you an intimate understanding of plunder." Then cackling loudly, he added, "Do you have a good view, Lucrezia?"

Silence.

"Lucy?"

She didn't move, and he stormed over to kick her.

"Get up, you Italian cunt!"

He kicked her again, and she didn't flinch.

"Damn you!!"

He whirled the flail at her feet and against Andrew's back then without another word stormed out of the cabin. From her place, lying still, she could hear Gillette release a loud sigh of relief.

"Lucy?" He called to her, but he was still bound to the whipping post and indecently exposed. She decided it were better if she continued to play quiet and let the man retain some dignity in front of her.

In a few minutes two nameless pirates entered.

"Get dressed ye, bugger!"

Lucy furtively watched the man release Andrew's wrist shackles.

"And they think we pirates are nasty beasties," the man said to his mate with a growling laugh.

"Where are we going?" Lucy asked as a smaller pirate cut loose her bonds.

"Below deck."

"Seems that one of you forgot to salute the Captain."

Lucy spied the taller man lean towards Gillette who was hunched over in pain against the support beam.

"Now, that wouldn't have been you would it, cap? Ha, ha, ha!"

And without further conversation, they were pulled and pushed below deck and forced into a small room.

"Ah!" As Andrew moved to brace himself against the cell wall, Lucy saw him wince in pain for the first time.

"Take off your shirt, and let me look at your back," she said quietly.

He tried and stopped, panting in pain.

"I can't, Miss Gagliano..." he said, collapsing to his knees, blood soaking through the fabric of his clothing. "I can't lift my arms."

"Here," she said lifting the shirt gently from his back and arms, "And I don't think James would object to you calling me 'Lucy.' Especially now that I'm undressing you," she teased. But Andrew was uncharacteristically quiet.

His back looked like a slaughtered lamb.

"I must bandage this up." She lifted her skirts and began to rip her petticoats into long strips of cloth to cover the wound.

"I never…" he started in a wavering voice, hands grasping the iron bars tightly. "I've heard stories, but I never thought it would happen to me."

"It's okay," Lucy soothed, realizing that Andrew was thoroughly shaken. "It didn't happen."

"No, thank god you fainted. I think it caused him to….lose his spirit." Then turning to Lucy, his brown eyes were painful and pleading. "But if it should happen, please swear to me that you will tell no one...especially James."

Lucy's heart pounded in her chest.

"I promise I would keep it from everyone, including James." Then lowering her eyes, she added, "And if anything should happen to me, I would ask the same of you."

Andrew grasped her hand, sealing the dark promise between them.

"I shall take your secrets to my grave."

"Thank you, Andrew."

She prayed that 'the grave' was something neither of them would know too soon.

lj-cut 


	13. Chapter 13

The Gift

Chapter 13: Falsetto

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

The spy is named! The 'real' chapter 13.

lj-cut text Falsetto 

" 'Ello missy!"

The cell door clanked opened to reveal two pirates, one stocky and snarling, the other skinny.

"Cap'n says you'll be dining with 'im tonight, and he wants you to wear this."

The rotting man thrust a purple dress into her hand. She took the dress, her face belying the repulsion she felt.

"And if we refuse?"

The skinny man giggled.

"The you'll eat with the crew. Naked!"

"Fine. We'll dine with Barbossa," she said, moving deeper into the cell.

"Agh!!...Why do they always say that!?" the skinny man cried. "And this is for the cappie."

He moved toward her and thrust a second package of clothing into her hands, along with a clay jar. A "And we'll be wantin' the grease back," he said, leaning in so close so she could smell the stench of his breath.

"Fine!" She answered, and with pleasure slammed the cell door shut behind them.

Opening Gillette's package, she found his coat, wig, and tricorn and turned to Andrew who lay on a nearby bench.

"They sent ointment for your wounds," Lucy assessed, sniffing the open jar. Reluctantly, he sat up.

"Help me dress then, Lucy."

And the two captives began to prepare for dinner.

They were making love, pounding into one another with heated need...

"Lucy….Lucy…"

Norrington moaned her name again and again. Then, in the darkness of their lovemaking, Mister Gagliano called, "Lucy! Lucy!"

James twisted, and his conscious brain assessed that her father shouldn't be there.

"Where is she?" the violin master cried.

"You can't go in there!" yelled his footman in a very civilized tone.

Norrington opened his eyes, just as his bedroom door flew open.

"Where is my daughter?" the Italian man yelled, his words breathing flames.

However, Lucy wasn't in the Admiral's bed. At this moment, she was gently smoothing a putrid ointment over Andrew's wounds.

"Aye Lucy, this is common enough medicine amongst common sailors. It will heal," he said flatly. She stopped.

"Do you hear something?"

Crunch. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Andrew listened intently.

"Footsteps overhead." His brown eyes held hers curiously, as it was the first movement they had heard all day. Handing the pot to Andrew, Lucy stood on the bench and moved her ear against the rotting wood of the ceiling. Voices!

"It's Barbossa!"

Her eyes lit up. Andrew stepped up onto the bench, as well, and they leaned their ears towards a mouse hole in the ceiling.

"I believe our plan has worked."

It was the voice of an older woman.

"Damn complex if you ask me, mother," said Barbossa.

"I _didn't_ ask, dearest Eduardo."

"So are we to shoot them after dinner?" Then he added giddily, "Or shall I use my new invention? The men call it 'walking the plank.' It's loads o' fun!"

_Crack!_ It was the sound of hand meeting cheek.

"Stupid boy. These are two innocent souls of our faith! They shall at least be allowed to live out the rest of their lives on our coffee plantation in Columbia in servitude. Do you really wish to have their names marked against you on God's list?"

Silence.

"No, mother."

Realization suddenly flooded Lucy's mind, and she whispered frantically to Gillette, "That's Maria Gravely! Barbossa is her son!?"

Andrew put his finger to his lips.

"Shhh…"

"We shall make course for Santa Marta this evening, mother."

"You are my best boy...At dinner, I will have Miss Gagliano pen the Admiral's letter telling of her elopement with Captain Gillette as well as her confession that the man has secret ties to you and to his brothers of faith in Rome and Spain."

Andrew's mouth formed an indignant little 'o'.

"That should persuade the Admiral that the spies are no more. You will move on to plunder the new eastern shipping lanes, and your sister Antonia will be primed to marry Norrington."

Lucy's jaw dropped.

"I can't think of a happier outcome for all! Until tonight, my dearest boy."

Crunch. Thump. Thump. Thump…..And the voices fell silent.

"I can't believe this! Ms. Gravely was the spy you told Norrington about."

Andrew's face was knotted in thought.

"She must have an inside man."

"They are to have me write a letter? Well, I shan't do it!" she exclaimed, stepping down from the bench with tears welling in her eyes.

Whispering to himself, Gillette finally said aloud, "Santa Marta is 4, 35´, 56´´.57 North." His warm eyes turned to hers in haste. "It's the latitude and longitude of where they're taking us, Lucy. You must encode it in the letter!"

" 4, 35´,56´´.57 North ?" she said more to herself than Gillette. The her face lit up. "I have the perfect code that only James will understand. We are saved, Andrew!"

"Where is my daughter?!"

Nicholas Gagliano was now standing beside Norrington's bed in full fury, and James sat up, bewildered.

"Lucy... is not here. Which begs the question, why are you?"

He managed to keep his voice calm, although his anger was slowly rising.

Gagliano walked around his bed in inspection, making sure his suspicions were indeed wrong.

"If she is not here, Admiral, then I fear the worst."

His dark eyes were tear-swollen. Dressed only in his nightshirt, Norrington pulled himself out of bed and approached the small Italian man.

"What do you mean, sir."

"She has been kidnapped."

Norrington dressed in haste, as Gagliano told of the circumstances that surrounded his unusual visit.

"So naturally, I assumed she was here." He hung his head between his hands. "This is grave indeed, Admiral."

"Perhaps she's visiting a sick friend, or some other emergency arose in your absence?" Norrington asked, tying his neck cloth.

"No. We had a system. We left notes for each other on the counter, and there was nothing there….But this."

He held up a small ring bearing a single flawless pearl, and James felt as if he had been kicked in his stomach. It was the ring he'd given Lucy at the Gravely's party -- a symbol of his affection and of their engagement. She had sworn that she would never remove it from her finger. Taking the ring from Gagliano, his green eyes turned hard.

"We must search for her immediately."

"You can't go in there!" he heard his doorman say to an unknown visitor for the second time that night.

"Sir! Captain Norrington!"

It was young Lieutenant Mowett, and the man touched his forehead in distress, catching his breath.

"Apologies for disturbing you, sir."

"Well, what is it?" Norrington barked in irritation.

"Sir, it's Captain Gillette. We can't find him. We were supposed to make leave at six bells, but he's disappeared, sir."

Andrew and Lucy sat shackled at the captain's table, Mrs. Gravely now known to them.

"Not hungry, Captain?"

"No," Andrew answered with a piercing retort. "I have not the stomach for your meat."

"Well, I've heard that vigorous exercise can arouse hunger," Barbossa answered, licking brown gravy from his lips. "Perhaps I can find a diversion for you this evening."

Gillette did not look away, and his upper lip curled in defiance.

"Enough!"

Mrs. Gravely stopped the bickering by jerking Lucy up by the shoulder.

"Come Miss Gagliano! Time to write a letter to your recent fiancée."

Situating the young woman forcibly into a rough chair in the corner, she shoved pen and paper into shackled hands.

"You will tell him that you can not marry him, because he is beneath you spiritually."

Barbossa smirked.

"Because he's a Proddie, dear."

"He's an unbeliever of Rome's true faith. Also, you will speak of your love for Captain Gillette, of his dignity and honor in assisting Spain, of his success in disrupting England's shipping lanes."

"He'll never believe that!" Andrew quipped.

Crack! Barbossa took pleasure in backhanding the shackled captain once again.

"Tell him that you do not hold him to any promise, as you plan to marry Captain Gillette as soon as possible. And you encourage him to marry right away." Mrs. Gravely smiled like a Cheshire cat. "Suggest Antonia Gravely."

"Never!"

Mrs. Gravely's hand flew against Lucy's cheek. And after a moment of anger held in check, Lucy put her pen to the paper and began to write. Mrs. Gravely watched with interest.

"What's this? 'Andrew was always a finer musician than you, as well. His performance of Bach's 4th concerto, Opus 51 was flawless and his playing of Hayden's 56th and 57th Sonatinas was soul-stirring. Your musicianship could Never obtain such passion..."

The N in 'never' was heavily underlined. After studying the paper, Gravely looked at Lucy.

"You said you wanted it to sound authentic. It will only sound like me if I speak of music." She was holding her breath, hoping neither were intimately acquainted with the opus numbers of the masters. "If he thinks that I favor Captain Gillette's flute playing, then he will be truly wounded."

Looking down at the paper weakly, she added, "If I can not have him, then at least I want his heart to be free to love again."

And Mrs. Gravely smiled manically.

"I think we're coming to an accord, Miss Gagliano."

At that moment, the door opened and there stood Donaldson, Theodore Grove's footman.

"Well, is it done?" he asked in a thick Scottish brogue.

"So it's you! You're the spy!" Andrew said, shaking his head in dismay. But Donaldson only laughed.

"You English are such pompous goat pricks!" said the man as he walked closer to the chained captain, his dark eyes seething in rage and madness. "You may have deported our King, but Scotland will be free again, even if we must do our fighting in the English way -- through trickery and buggery!"

The man laughed loudly and bitterly, and Andrew hung his head as the master plan revealed itself. Donaldson was the spy, and now he and Lucy would have to pay for England's sins.

lj-cut 


	14. Chapter 14

The Gift

Chapter 14: Intermezzo

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Gillette and Lucy were unceremoniously throw back into their small, freezing cold cell, and as they discussed the letter she wrote James, Lucy couldn't stop shaking from the sea's December chill.

"Come, Miss." Andrew stood and began to remove his blue woolen coat. "We should try to get some sleep, or at least find some warmth."

Fiddling with his buttons, he said, "I'm going to lay on the bench and you shall lay beside me. We'll try a little body warmth to stop your chill."

His voice was commanding, but his eyes avoided hers.

"Captain!"

Lucy was dismayed by his bold suggestion.

"Lucy…" replied Gillette with a sigh. "James and I have had to do this on two occasions. I suppose if I can suffer cuddling with James for warmth, he wouldn't mind me doing this same with you."

Andrew lay down on his side.

"Come." He put his arm out and gestured toward her in the darkness. "Press your back to me and I shall put my coat over both of us. We shall be like two spoons in the cupboard."

Lucy sat tentatively on the bench

"You've done this with James?"

"Unfortunately, yes," mused Andrew, and Lucy could hear the undertone of mirth in his voice, and slowly, she lay down on her side.

"The first time, I was a child of nine….the carpenter's boy upon a sloop called The Sophie, and James was a midshipman. God," he said, reflecting on time's past. "He must have only been fourteen at the time. Well, our ship was captured in Indians and our captain killed. The officers were beaten." He paused and rearranged his coat over both of them. "I'm sure he still bears the wounds upon his back... Well, it was painfully cold, and we boys were locked up together…. me in just my simple gear of sailcloth clothing close to death from frostbite."

Gillette placed an arm around Lucy, dragging her body back against his and pressing her close.

"Anyway, he held me just like this each night until we were able to escape. His bravery on the escape made him a Lieutenant and me a midshipman. He saved my life like this, for I would have surely froze to death."

"And the second time?" she asked with suspicion.

Andrew laughed

"Dear lord, I can't believe I'm going to tell you this! We were in a ferocious battle during a snowstorm off Cape Horn. James was a captain then and was blown off the ship by canon shot. Somehow, he managed to swim his way back and we got him back aboard….lost the pirate ship, of course."

Lucy was beginning to feel warm in Andrew Gillette's arms, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she shouldn't be lying with James best friend in such a position.

"The doctor ordered him stripped of his clothes. Completely, mind you," he laughed again. "Then he ordered that one of we lieutenants had to hold him tightly until he warmed. Body heat and all...Needless to say, I lost the coin toss. Mind you, I was still in my britches, so no buggery or any of that. And it was under the surgeon's orders, but it was still it was damn awkward... Yes, damn awkward," he repeated, thinking more on their current situation than the one so long ago.

"My goodness, I never thought you'd have do such a thing in the service."

"Nor did I, miss! Luckily after Norrington warmed up, he got a horrible fever and claims he can't remember any of it, though Groves likes to tease us about it from time to time." Andrew shook his head, musing. "I'd like to forget, as well, but he did save my life in the Indies. So I figure I owed him one."

Lucy snuggled a bit deeper into the captain's arms.

"I like hearing about James. He so rarely talks about his past."

"Ah, he'll open up to you, Lucy. He's a guarded man, has to be in his position. You know, he was the youngest sailor to ever make first Lieutenant…and Admiral, as well, I'd imagine... But he is the best sort, really. He deserves a good woman."

"Thank you, Andrew. He is very dear to me," Lucy agreed. After a long, comfortable moment of silence, she asked, "Andrew, have you ever been in love?"

He didn't answer for a moment.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"I was kidnapped," he laughed.

"Oh! Then you have a sweetheart in Port Royal?"

"Yes, Lizette Germaine," he answered quietly.

"The baker's daughter. She's quite beautiful and kind."

Lucy knew her well.

"She is both, certainly."

"And have you considered marrying her?"

It was really none of her business; but in the darkness, it was easier to ask such things.

"I have asked her several times, but she has refused for my sake….She cannot have children due to a fever as a young girl….and thus, she thinks that she is not worth marrying, but I disagree." He chuckled and added, "I have been disagreeing for the past three years."

Lucy cringed. She reminded herself that just because they were intimately holding each other didn't mean their conversation needed to be such.

"I'm sorry, it was rude of me to ask you such a question."

"Not at all, miss. I love her deeply. She does things..." His voice trailed off. "Perhaps after all this is over she'll be so distraught that she will change her mind and let me wed her after all."

Lucy squeezed his hand.

"I will pray for you both."

She meant that sincerely, for Andrew Gillette would make a good husband, much like her own James. And for a while, Andrew didn't comment.

"May I ask you a personal question?"

"It's only fair, I suppose."

"Are you a papist?" he asked squarely.

"No... I suppose I was baptized in the Church in Italy, but that's all I know of it... And you?"

"Well, I believe more in what I can see than in what I read or hear."

"Oh, ye of little faith!" chided Lucy with her own laugh.

"In most things, yes. In others, I'll always keep hoping..."

Lucy tilted towards him on her arm. She knew he spoke of Lizette, and her heart saddened for him. It was a horrible fate to love someone and be forcibly parted.

In the darkness, she whispered to Gillette, "I love him."

"Aye miss. As you should... Now try and get some rest."

"Goodnight, Captain."

"Goodnight, Miss Gagliano."

And out-of-breath Lieutenant Mowett ran into the Admiral's office.

"Sir, it's a letter just arrived."

Norrington stood surrounded by Groves, several Lieutenants, and the military sergeant as well as Nicolas Gagliano, Lizette Germaine and Jane Groves, who was attempting to comfort the young lady.

Norrington swiftly took the letter and tore the seal. But after quickly scanning it, he stared at the page for a long moment before collapsing in his chair. Lizette grabbed the letter from his hand and after scanning the words began to yell expletives at the Admiral in her native French.

Mowett's haphazard French managed to catch "You stupid English cow" and "cowardly captain."

The men at arms looked at each and waited for the Admiral to insist on her removal, but he looked lost in thought. Norrington's green eyes were cold as he stood and Lizette snatched his lapels, still screaming in her native tongue, but James grasped her wrists and replied in fluent French, "It is 'Admiral,' Miss Germain, and I don't believe what she said."

"Then stop looking so defeated! For godsakes, I know Andrew and he is no trader! He's no papist spy! Have you so little faith in him?" she cried, collapsing against his chest as Jane rushed to comfort her.

"Sir," Gagliano had picked up the discarded letter and was studying it intently. "This part... There are no Handel Sonatinas. Could this be a code for something?"

Theodore moved closer and whispered, "Columbia."

Norrington looked at coordinates. "Yes, more specifically, Santa Marta." Then looking to Groves, he ordered, "Make the Falcon ready to sail in one hour. Mr. Gagliano, Miss Germaine, you will accompany Lieutenant Mowett onboard. That is, if you wish to risk your lives."

"Yes!" they both answered simultaneously, and James smirked

"Alright. Sergeant, ready your company. We make sail for Spanish waters at nine bells."


	15. Chapter 15

The Gift

Chapter 15: Diatonic

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Author's note: So my beta is in Denver stuck in the blizzard! Forging on without her…BTW I'm also up dating this story at my livejournal account lyralupin. It's a bit neater over there is you want to friend me. Cheers! L

Dawn broke aboard the Falcon as Admiral Norrington stood on the front most bow contemplating the beauty of the rising sun; the pinks, yellows and amber hues stretching in the morning light, pushing away the blue night sky. But he could feel no joy in the day's dawning, because self- doubts plagued his mind and his heart.

In the distance, a bell rang.

"Sir, shall I take this watch? You've been up all night." Theodore added with gentle prodding.

The winter wind rustled around them as Norrington asked, "What if we're too late? What if the letter is…" He couldn't finish his words as the thought sickened him.

"James," Theodore clasped his hands tightly behind his back and leaned in closely. "I can not speak for Miss Gagliano, for only you know her heart, but I swear to you, Andrew Gillette would rather die than betray you. You are brother, father and friend to him and he would follow you-- _has_ followed you," he corrected himself, "to the ends of the earth."

Norrington looked down and sighed, "I know it is most unfair to doubt him. No, Theodore, what I doubt most is myself." The last part he added very quietly. "If I lose Lucy then I fear I shall go back to that dark place… that place I was after the hurricane, after Elizabeth. A state of mind that's such a black abyss that it drove me to the bottle, it drove me to Tortuga …to utter madness."

His green eyes turned far out to sea, "I never wish to know that kind of despair again..."

The chilling sea wind whistled around them with foreboding. "I wonder are those demons really gone or have I just pushed them further down into my soul and they will spring back up at the first moment of tragedy. I've never doubted my character in battle or with my men, but" he chuckled sadly, "I'm afraid I doubt the strength of my own heart."

Grove was astonished at James' words as he wasn't use to hearing self-doubt in the Admiral's voice. "You will never go there again, James."

His jaw set hard, "If we don't find Andrew and Lucy then you will go on…" Then he added hesitantly, "and you will love again. You have been so fortunate to make a match of love and that's only because you are capable of loving and that trait of character never fades."

Norrington pursed his lips, his jaw twitched. Yes, he did love, but it was not returned, she had made that clear. He knew Groves meant his words to be comforting, but his mind strove into the darkness anyway and he wondered if he was somehow he was unworthy of loving. He wondered what flaw of character he possessed that made him so undesirable that no woman could give him her heart. Was he only to ever know a woman's body, and not her soul?

"Thank you, Captain Groves." Turning quickly on his heel, "The watch is yours."

"Sir," Groves saluted staunchly, wondering what he had said wrong.

Lucy and Andrew were once again shackled and hauled up to the deck. The pirates encircled them snarling and laughing; pulling at Lucy's skirts.

"Don't let them see you fret, Lucy. You'll be fine. They won't disobey their captain."

Within a moment, Barbossa meandered into view, a thick wad of tobacco between his lips. "I'm afraid Captain; this is where our journey comes to an end."

He nodded his plumed hat toward the port of Santa Marta.

"I must say, it was only somewhat pleasurable." His purple lips smirked.

Gillette reddened, "I am afraid I can not return that compliment, Barbossa."

"_Captain_ Barbossa, if you please," he said as his sword, swished up from its sheath and flicked against the shinny buttons of Andrew's waist coat.

"And now, Miss Lucy, I'll be needing return of that dress." The sword moved now between her breasts and then lower, cutting the stays of the bodice.

Lucy cringed and Barbossa laughed roughly. "A shame, my dear, a true shame that we didn't get to know one another," then leaning closer, his yellow eyes wide, "In the biblical sense, that is."

She jerked her head away from him as he continued to cut her stays, the pirate crew chanting and singing with a mocking laughter.

"I suppose during your, well, lifetime—how ever long that might be picking coffee beans on mother's plantation, Captain Gillette, you might do the honor of," and he said the last part very loudly for the enjoyment of the crew, "the honor of riding Miss Gagliano of her prudish ways and her virginity."

Lucy flushed a deep red and Gillette turned his head away in disgust. The crowd of dirty sailors cheered again.

The sword moved to Gillette's britches and played at his buttons. "Perhaps, we should insist on a demonstration of that now!"

Another loud cheer from the pirate deck.

"Stop this buggery at once Barbossa! We have done as you have asked, now put us at port." Andrew insisted.

Barbossa lowered his sword, and grabbed Lucy, giving her a deep throaty kiss. Upon his releasing her, she turned promptly and vomited. The crew laughed.

Mrs. Gravely now appeared. "Come Captain Barbossa, we're ready to go ashore."

"Alright, cappie. I shall acquiesce to your request." The Captain of the Golden Bones snarled.

_God bless Mrs. Gravely_, Andrew prayed to whatever god might listen.

Aboard The Falcon:

"Yes, it's Lucy and Andrew. I can't believe it! How did Barbossa ever get them?" Groves looking through his own spy glass with astonishment. Norrington stood next to him, his eye to his glass as well.

"Dear God, if they toss them over, we'll never be quick enough to save them." He collapsed his glass, "We should hoist colors and make ready the guns."

"Wait sir, look! They're putting them over into a jolly boat. I think they mean to take them to shore."

Norrington pulled back out his glass. "Yes, I believe you're right, Captain... God lord, look on shore Groves."

Groves gasped, "Spanish slavers!"

Then Theodore moved his glass a half inch to the left, "That's a fine pair of cannons on West bank. If we take them at the harbor mouth, we'd be out of range of the those long nines and have a much better chance of gaining victory as well as a sweet prize."

"Groves, the command is yours, take them at the harbor mouth. I will take a jolly boat to shore with Lieutenant Mowett and four men. We'll row back out to you when we have Gillette and Miss Gagliano."

"Aye, sir."

"While we are covertly rescuing Miss Gagliano and Gillette, you shall take the Golden Bones and if you can keep her out of the way of the canons, keep her as a prize. I believe Lieutenant Aubrey would make a fine captain, but of course, that is up to you."

Groves was smiling immensely. "I agree as well, sir."

"Now, I have a date with Scruffington… Direct me to one of your men that might be of my same height."

Grove had difficulty stifling a laugh, "Scruffington, sir? How did you know that we called you such during those dark times?"

"I may have had a mind to the bottle and my face in pigsty, Groves, but I wasn't deaf." Norrington replied with very proper English gentlemen airs.

"No. but you were extremely stinky!" Groves laughed and added. "Thank goodness Andrew didn't need to give you a cuddle then."

Norrington smiled pleasantly, eyes diverted. "Thank you for reminding me of both, Theodore."

"Aye, Admiral." The captain saluted with a smile.


	16. Chapter 16

The Gift

Chapter 16:

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

With blade and pistol ready, Norrington, young lieutenant Mowett, and four of his most trusted sailors, hid in the dense forest that lined the main road from Santa Marta port to the plantations. Overhead, storm clouds gathered, and a cold wind blew furiously, rustling the trees with foreboding.

Along with a hoard of other slaves, James had seen Gillette and Lucy in shackles, and there was only one place they could going-- to the mountainous coffee fields for back-breaking labor. Of course, he would not let that happen.

Within a few minutes after taking their hiding places amongst the thick jungle vines, a donkey cart appeared around the bend followed by a clanking mass of shackled humans shuffling in a silent, defeated march. A few young slavers holding whips lingered at their sides, chewing tobacco and occasionally hurling insults at their chained captives.

Gillette and Norrington locked eyes for a brief moment, and it was enough time for Andrew to create a diversion. Andrew stopped suddenly, causing Lucy to run into his back.

"Watch out, you old cow!"

"What?"

She looked at him, perplexed.

"I said I'm tired of your moaning!"

He yelled this time and gave her a slight push.

"Back off!"

One of the slavers was at his side in a flash.

"Que es la problema!" the man shouted.

The entire caravan had stopped, all eyes now on the malay that Andrew had created. And it was just the diversion Norrington needed. Just as the slavers whip cracked on Gillette's back, a pistol fired, the man dropped dead. Suddenly, there was more gun fire, a few shouts from the Spanish slavers and swords clinked in battle.

Lucy looked up just as James Norrington grabbed the last slaver from behind and slit his throat with a wild, beastly look glowing in his green eyes.

"James!" She shouted in sheer joy.

Norrington stooped down and rummaged the body for keys to their shackles.

"Got another set over here, sir!" called Mowett.

Norrington motioned to the assorted lot of human captives.

"Unshackle these men and women!"

Blood stained his shirt and as he stood with his hair unbound and the look of a wild man still in his eyes, Lucy began to cry.

"James!"

He rushed to her, hands shaking as he unlocked her shackles. He might be furious when it came to battle, but his name coming from her lips quite undid him. And as soon as she was free, Lucy threw her arms around him.

"I love you, James! I love you!"

It was as if an arrow had pierced his heart, his voice rough as he answered her.

"Oh, Lucy…"

It was everything he had dreamed of hearing from her, and he buried his lips into her hair, reveling in her scent and her warm, welcoming touch.

"Shhh! You're safe, I have you." he offered, more as a comfort to himself than to the woman melting in his arms.

"I thought I'd never see you again, James. And I thought…" she wept. "I thought I'd never get to tell you how much you mean to me."

James pulled back and smiled, brushing away her tears just as his own eyes turned a bit glassy.

"No more sailing without me, alright?"

She laughed and took his hand, kissing the palm.

"I promise, love."

Norrington blushed at such a show of affection in front of his men.

"Umm... sir?"

Andrew appeared at Norrington's side and held up his shackled wrists.

"I'm not a papist."

Norrington grinned.

"Andrew Gillette!" he laughed. "I've never been more glad to see you, papist or not."

Then he freed his officer of the iron bonds.

"Thank you, sir. I like you, too," Andrew quipped, rubbing at his sore wrists.

And with a hand tightly entwined with Lucy's, he whispered, "Now we must make our escape, for we've the Falcon to meet."

He motioned to his crew, and the English sailors disappeared into the jungle's thicket, leaving behind five dead slavers and thirty freed slaves.

As soon as they cleared the brush, it was obvious that the Falcon and the Golden Bones were locked in a sea battle just outside the harbor of Santa Marta, their cannons booming red and orange against a graying sky. The Falcon was the swifter ship, but the Golden Bones outgunned her. And if they were going to take her, they would need every man.

When Norrington declared, "We must row out to her," he was swiftly met with an eager, "Aye, sir!" The Falcon's crew looked forward to bloody hand-to-hand combat from time-to-time, especially if it were followed by the prize of a pirate ship. Within moments, they were rowing across the choppy waters of the Columbian inlet. And James' face knotted as he finally noticed blood streaking the back of Andrew's white waistcoat.

"What in Christ's name did they do to you, Gillette?"

"Barbossa decided to have it out on me. Nothing too serious, sir, except my pride," he admitted and continued to relay the entire spy ring and its cast of evil characters. To say the least, Norrington was shocked.

"I never would have suspected Donaldson..." he said, mind troubled as he wondered what Scottish loyalists lurked in Port Royal. As they tied up alongside The Falcon, it was obvious that the crew had already begun the battle.

"James, I've already lost you once," Lucy said, gripping his hand tightly.

But Norrington turned his back to his crew, his face pained as he said, "Lucy, my duty as an officer come first. I am bound..."

"...by honor and duty," she finished, her dark eyes sad. "I know," she whispered as she looked downward. "Go."

He wished to kiss her, but there was no time. Instead, he wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed it tightly before turning to the ropes.

"No Captain, stay here."

Then placing a pistol in Gillette's hand, he leaned close and Andrew could feel the heat of his breath, the intensity of the man's eyes burning into him.

"That pistol has two shots. If we shouldn't make it... you know what is required of you."

Gillette had always been a man to answer duty when it called, as well.

"Yes, sir," he said with his jaw set hard.

Sometimes duty was a bitch.


	17. Chapter 17

The Gift

Chapter 17:

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Gillette knew that the onboard battle was taking longer than it should when a pirate suddenly fell into the jolly boat. Andrew gave the bloody body a swift kick to confirm the man was dead then threw him overboard. Lucy shook with fear and although Andrew hated to leave her, he had no choice.

"Lucy, take this pistol," he said, kneeling closely as he placed a wood and steel contraption into her small, cold hands and placed her forefinger on the trigger. "If The Falcon is taken and the officers killed, then..." He sighed heavily, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "That is to say, if we are all killed, it would be better for you to end your own life than become a slave to pirates. Do you understand me?"

To make his point clear, he lifted her hand and the pistol to her temple.

"One shot, here."

She was crying but stoically answered, "I understand."

"Good…." Andrew stood, trying to smile. "Now there are two shots in that pistol, so you have a spare if anyone should board this boat….I leave in you in charge of this sloop, Captain Gagliano," he said, turning to the ropes and with a quick salute, ascended up the rigging to the Falcon.

Lucy cried more out of pure and utter anger than fear. They just wanted her to sit in the jolly boat until the worst should come and then shoot herself! Dressed only in her chemise and corset and Gillette's naval jacket, she decided to board The Falcon, too.

"God be damned if I'm going to let the man I love die without a fight!" She declared to the empty boat as she stuck the large pistol between her bosoms and her corset and ascended the rigging behind Gillette.

On board, Norrington was locked in a bitter duel with Barbossa. The outcome of their fight would bear the winner of the day and the loser; and James Norrington was determined not to lose.

_Clank._

"Fine missy you have there," Barbossa smiled as sword meet sword.

_CLANK!_

Norrington didn't answer for a moment then said, "Very kind of you to save her for me."

_Clank._

Norrington snarled, as their blades grated and slid to the hilts.

"When I'm through with you, Barbossa, you shall be drawn and quartered for your treason against the King."

They fell back then their swords matched again.

"Your head will be placed on a spike at Port Royal!" Norrington seethed.

_Clank._

"Your four parts thrown into the four seas!"

But Barbossa only laughed heartily.

"I'm sure the Ol' Baily would enjoy hearing the details of me life. Especially the parts that involve my conjugal relations with your sweetheart. Italians are such a lusty bunch!"

This time, sparks few as the swords clashed. Again and again, Norrington took aim with his full body, finally backing Barbossa to the ship's railing, the pirate captain's sword flying overboard. Norrington's green eyes burned with fire, as he demanded through a tense jaw, "Burn in hell!"

Then drawing back his blade to pierce the man's heart, he felt a sudden pain in his back and knew he'd been stabbed. The weight of his own sword was suddenly too much, and he sunk to his knees, leaving Barbossa to steady himself and pick up his blade.

"Sorry, Admiral, today's just not my day to meet ol' hob."

He lifted the fine sword, ready to behead the sinking Norrington when suddenly a shot pierced him right between the eyes; and with sword still in hand, he fell overboard. There was a second shot that hit a pirate to his right. The man that stabbed him in the back fell, as well; but Norrington sank to the deck, his hands growing sticky with his own blood when suddenly, the sky opened up and it began to rain.

"James!" Lucy ran forward to him, and he felt her pull the knife from his back. "Oh, dear God James! Speak to me!"

He felt cold but tried to smile.

"Lucy," he managed, weakly taking her hand.

"I love you, James! I love you!"

She was crying, her hair wet, and she moved to cradle him, her white chemise and corset stained scarlet.

"I love you, too, Lucy."

Tears welled from her eyes and fell to his cheeks. Or was it the rain?

"I'm sorry."

She looked at him in awe.

"No! No, James! You're going to live!"

Suddenly, Groves was besides her to gauge the situation then called out, "Get the surgeon! It's the Admiral."

And Doctor Ingram came quickly, huddling against the rain as he studied the injury.

"We must get him in the cabin. Part of the blade is still in the wound."

Lucy felt strong arms wrap around her and pull her back from her love.

"No, I must go with him!" She cried, fighting the arms around her as Groves, Ingram and Mowett lifted Norrington's lifeless body. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"No, love."

It was Gillette's voice, low and soothing. "Come, we've won the battle; and there's nothing you can do for him now. He's needs the doctor."

Lucy's body fell heavy and she sank grudgingly into the arms of her friend.

"I love him, Andrew," she sobbed against his chest.

"I know, Lucy. We both do."

And in the midst of the piercing rain and gale, they held each another and cried.

As the sailors locked the surviving pirates below deck along with Mrs. Gravely and Donaldson, Lucy's father and Jane Groves greeted her warmly. They covered her with warm blankets in the captain's quarters and gave her a mug of hot rum. Finally, Doctor Ingram entered, his white shirt sleeves stained scarlet.

"Miss Gagliano," Ingram said with a heavy voice. "He's alive."

"Thank God!" Lucy bound from her father's arms in relief. "But will he live, doctor?"

"Aye, if he fights the infection," replied Ingram, wiping a smudge of blood from his hands with a handkerchief. "You may accompany me to the surgeon's quarters."

Mister Gagliano and Jane stood, as well.

"It would be better if only Miss Lucy went," said Ingram, motioning to her father and friend. "He's battling a fever, and fewer visitors will make for a faster recovery."

Lucy kissed her father and gave Jane a small hug.

"I shall be alright." Then without further ado, she accompanied Ingram to meet her love.

He lay on the surgeon's table, freshly washed, his chestnut hair clean and free around his shoulders; a fresh linen shirt loosely on his shoulders, white britches and stockings on his body. His skin was as pale as his clothing, his lips a pallid grey. Lucy brought a fearful hand to her mouth.

"He's only sleeping off the laudanum. I had to remove a broken bit of blade from his back, but it missed any major organs," answered Ingram, and then reached into his black waistcoat. "This was hanging around his neck." The doctor held up a pearl ring.

"I thought it had been stolen!" Lucy said, softly taking the ring from his fingers.

"…The Admiral is very lucky to have your love, Miss Lucy," the doctor said with lowered eyes. And Lucy smiled sadly, knowing that the doctor had once hoped to make her his wife.

"We can't choose where our heart lies, Johann." Then she gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for saving his life. You are a fine man."

Ingram nodded and disappeared behind the cabin curtain. When the doctor had gone, Lucy turned to James and picked up a cloth to sooth his heated forehead. At the touch, his eyes fluttered open.

"James!" Lucy smiled.

"Lucy," James managed, his voice rasping from the surgery. "I'm... still alive?"

She nodded, touching his hair, and his breathing was heavy as he struggled for words.

"I refuse to die... at the hands of pirate."

She laughed.

"Good thing you weren't fighting the Spanish, then."

"Or the Spanish," Norrington repeated, his eyes fluttering shut. "Damned... papists."

"You found my ring."

As Lucy changed the subject and put the small band around her finger, Norrington began to mumble, "She took the ring off... She said she never would."

"I didn't take it off, you dolt, I suppose the pirates took it when they kidnapped me."

But he wasn't hearing her now, his mind deep in fever.

"I love her, but she...she doesn't love me, mother."

He began to cry, and it broke Lucy's heart.

"Shhh, dear!" She soothed, kissing his forehead. "She loves you. I love you."

And he quieted at her touch.

"I love you, too. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, mother..." he repeated softly over and over until he fell asleep once again.

It was then that Lucy realized they were not alone in the cabin. She turned to look upon Captain Groves with a puzzled expression and a broken heart.

"His mother was killed by pirates, Lucy…..He has never forgiven himself for not saving her."

And with that one revelation, so much became suddenly clear regarding the hard, polished exterior of the man she loved.

"What could he have done?"

"Nothing," answered Groves quietly. "He was only a boy back in England." He moved close to Lucy, his voice calm. "Don't let it trouble you, it's only the opium speaking. Doctor Ingram has sewn up his wound, and you have mended his heart...He will heal."

"Body and soul," she whispered to the proud man who lay humble before her. Another door to James Norrington had been opened; and she knew now that she had to prove her love to him with everything she was, with all her body and soul, so that he would never doubt anything in life again.

Author's note: If you're reading this fic-- I'd love a review!!


	18. Chapter 18

The Gift

Chapter 18: Pochissimo

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Warning: This is my favorite Italian musical term; it's pronounce _po-kiss-i-mo_. It means 'little-by-little'. Isn't that sweet? However, this chapter is a little naughty-- ye, be warned!

Author's Note: Ahoy maties! Thanks to everyone that's left review-- they are greatly appreciated! If you want a cleaner version of this story, it's at my Livejournal. You can link to it from my profile and Homepage. I'm lyralupin over there. Again, thank you:)

In the darkness, he heard the tenor strains of a violoncello calling to him, singing a dark melody of love and sadness and wooing him to open his eyes. And so he did. In the firelight of the hearth sat a dark-haired angel in a blue gown, her limbs curled around the bass viola, her eyes closed as her heart sang within the instrument's amber resonance.

"Lucy," he called to her.

The angelic face looked up and smiled, her sadness instantly gone.

"James!"

She put down her instrument and rushed to his bedside.

"Where am I? What happened to the ship? To Barbossa?"

"You're home," she said, smoothing his hair from his eyes. "They took the Golden Bones as a prize, and Barbossa is dead….Groves pulled his body from the sea and had him quartered."

"Good."

James smiled then looked at her with strange realization.

"The gun I left with two shots -- it was you."

But Lucy just bit her bottom lip.

"I'm not the best at following orders."

"I'm glad," he laughed then immediately winced in pain. She offered him a cup of wine and he sipped readily. His body soon warmed and the pain quieted.

"Thank you…" And then he added as he looked around the room, "Are we alone?" knowing it wasn't proper for her to be with him in such circumstances.

"Yes. Doctor Ingram was here, but he got called back to the fort. My father and Gillette have gone to attend midnight mass... It's Christmas Eve, James."

Then she bent forward and kissed him deeply. Well, James figured, maybe they could go against decorum this one time. After all, it was Christmas Eve.

"Mmmm...Am I getting my present early then?" James moaned and kissed her again.

"Yes," Lucy said, standing with a smile and pulling off her stockings. Norrington tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy.

"Did that wine have laudanum in it?" He asked, feeling warm and fuzzy. Lucy laughed.

"Just a little. Doctor's orders."

She climbed back on the bed, straddling his body with her legs.

"He said it would be better if you didn't move."

James breathed heavily.

"What are you up to?" He asked, hands moving to her skirts, touching her bare ankles and naked calves with pleasure. She leaned over and kissed him carefully as her hands found his chest and then his waist, pulling back his night shirt and finally wrapping around his hardening need. He moaned, back arching as she grasped him in her hands.

"Oh, Lucy!"

"I'm tired of waiting for you, James," she whispered hotly in his ear. "I love you, James Norrington." He could feel her naked legs beneath her satin skirts as she gripped him tighter between her thighs. "I love you body and soul."

If he could have spoken, he would have called her a succubus, because he now realized her intentions. And if he could have moved with any degree of strength, he would have thrown her off and told her this wasn't right. But he couldn't. She was seeking his submission, and he would give it to her; because in Lucy's hands, his body and heart were safe. He knew he was loved as she eased herself around his desire, and he welcomed her.

Her face twisted with pain, as the head of his need fitted tightly into her body. Bringing up his hips, hands tightening around her bottom, he breeched her maidenhood and knew with certainty that she had not been violated by her captors. He released a deep sigh of relief followed by a moan as she began to ride above him.

_My god_, he thought, _This is the wildest sex I've ever had, and it's just our first time_.

He had seen this position but had never thought to emulate it.

"Is this alright?" She finally asked.

"My God, yes!" He whispered through his haze. "Are you alright, love?" His hands grasped her wrists. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, not now," she said, and he knew he sat deep within her core.

"Move again," he commanded, and she did as his hands found her hips again and aided her rhythm.

His head fell backward in pleasure.

"Oh, Lucy! How you undo me!" He cried as she bucked against him, beginning to find her own pleasure in their lovemaking.

She clung to his nightshirt now, her black hair sticking to her damp face as she rode above him, sating her own need. Even in his opium fog, he resisted his own orgasm until he felt her quiver and cry out.

His finger tightened around her hips.

"Just a bit further, love."

She bucked against him once more, and he too was undone. Then removing herself from him, she laid at his side and he kissed her forehead.

"I am wanton, James."

He laughed.

"Maybe, but at least you're my little wanton."

His strong arms wrapped around her.

"That was a wonderful gift. I hope you shan't regret giving it to me early."

"No," she replied firmly. "I wanted to show you how much I love you, and how much I'll always love you." She cooed and nuzzled beneath his chin. "I could think of no better way to show you what you mean to me."

He smiled at her words.

"My god, I love you, too, Lucy."

James couldn't remember a time when he had felt more needed, more whole, or more loved. And together, they fell into a deep sleep.

It was Doctor Ingram who woke her with a gentle shake. Goodness only knew what he had thought finding Lucy bare legged and strewn across James Norrington's sleeping form.

"I think it best if you go home now, Miss Gagliano," he whispered gently.

Her cheeks burned red as she stood and collected her things, leaving the room without saying a word.


	19. Chapter 19

The Gift

Chapter 19: A cappella

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Author's Note: Please note that this story has been update to M rating. Again, reviews are appreciated.

Norrington felt cold, and opened his eyes to find a fuzzy outlined form on the chair beside him.

"Lucy?" He called out tentatively. Doctor Ingram shut his book.

"Good, you're awake...I sent Lucy home." James tried to sit up.

"I think I owe you a great deal of thanks."

The thin Dutchman just smiled and reached for James wrist.

"You are welcome, sir. But I think it was your fiancée, Miss Gagliano, who shot Barbossa and his thug." After a moment of quiet, he looked up and said, "Your pulse is strong."

James clasped his hand.

"Then I owe both of you my thanks…. I clearly remember being stabbed….I've had quiet a few flesh wounds, but this one was different."

Ingram helped him sit up in the bed and rearranged a pillow behind him when Norrington winced.

"It was deep, sir, and a piece of the blade broke off in your back. Not to worry, though. It was a clean removal, and I sewed up the wound quite neatly, if I may say so myself. Please turn over, sir, and let's have another look."

Lifting the admiral's nightshirt and carefully removing the bandages, he examined the wound and smiled.

"You shall live, Admiral. Congratulations."

James sighed and rolled back over.

"I shall call your footman to help you dress. And I beg you to eat a light diet today -- fish, porridge. No rum or tobacco." Then collecting his surgical kit, he added, "And no physical activity, including the nocturnal kind."

James blushed and looked away.

"Oh, yes. Duly noted, doctor."

Then the man donned his black tricorn, looking every bit a follower of Rousseau, and casually saluted his patient.

"Happy Christmas, Admiral Norrington."

"Likewise, Ingram. Uhm..._Vrolijk Kerstfees_t."

Ingram laughed.

"Very good, sir," he said before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

James rubbed at his eyes, remembering last night. And he smiled. Was it a dream? He pulled back the sheet and found that his nightshirt bore the evidence of their coupling.

_Knock. Knock._

"Sir, Dr. Ingram says I should help you dress," his footman called from behind the door.

"No need, Forbes. I can take care of it."

"Very good, sir."

James stood carefully and edged his way to the wash basin. The water was chilly despite the nearby roaring fire, and it refreshed him body and mind. Had he and Lucy made love? More appropriately, had she drugged him and made love to him? It was so much like a dream -- a beautiful dream, and he was anxious to see her today.

James had just managed to dress himself when another knock sounded at the door.

"Sir, Captains Grove and Gillette to see you."

"Send them in."

"James!"

"Happy Christmas, Norrington!"

"Right, ho! You look most excellent!"

They shook hands vigorously.

"Please, sit and tell me everything!" Norrington exclaimed.

He was grinning ear to ear, and the pair of captains eagerly took a seat by the fire. Groves recounted every detail of the battle, while Gillette filed in his and Lucy's roles.

"Right good Miss you have there, James," Gillette concluded.

Groves raised an eyebrow at William.

"I hope your wife doesn't mind you talking about Miss G in such flattering tones."

Norrington looked up abruptly with keen eyes.

"Your _wife_, Gillette?"

"Aye, Miss Germaine...Lizette." Gillette was beaming. "She's now Lizette Gillette! Finally conceded to marriage, seeing that she almost lost me to a pirate."

Theodore laughed.

"I married them at sea aboard The Falcon as soon as Doctor Ingram let us know you'd live."

Norrington nodded

"Very good, but you say she finally conceded?"

He had never seen it, but Gillette actually blushed.

"Yes, well……I've been asking her for about three years now and have been denied at each request."

Norrington looked at him sadly, personally knowing the pain of rejection.

"But you persisted?"

"Yes," his warm eyes looked up. "Lizette believed she was unable to give me children due to a fever she had as a child, and….well, we tested this several times. It is probably so, but I never cared."

Groves stifled a laugh and muttered, "Was that a new scientific method, Andrew?" But Gillette ignored Theodore's comment.

"I know she isn't of high rank, James, being the baker's daughter; but she is an honest girl and fair. Her family is good and kind." Then looking aside, he added, "But most importantly, I love her. She is so dear to me." James understood.

"Andrew, you needn't offer me any other reason than the last."

And Groves feigned surprise.

"Could it be true that our Admiral has deferred to his heart instead of his head?"

Norrington smiled and looked down at the cup in his hand.

"Yes, 'tis fair what you say. I should have listened to my heart long ago. I probably could have saved myself a great deal of inconvenience and heartache..."

Then reaching for a decanter, he refilled his friends' goblets.

"But it is of no matter now. We have all found happiness in three very lovely and very patient women."

They raised their drinks and all offered a toast.

"To friendship," offered Groves.

"To wives," offered Gillette.

"To love!" Norrington added with a large grin; and with that their glasses clinked in camaraderie, fraternity, and love.

On the other side of the door, Lucy smoothed her skirts and worried about seeing James this Christmas morning. What was it about daylight that made sin seem so harsh? Would he cast her aside for her behavior or welcome her with loving arms in spite of her lascivious behavior the night before.

She didn't feel any different, not being an innocent, and surely James was no novice to the lover's bed. Sailors had a reputation for being lusty, although she did not much see this side of his character. But could a man tell something was different in a woman? Did it show in her eyes or her complexion? Breathing deeply, a small gift in her trembling hand, she knocked on the door.

"Come in," said a strong voice. She did so and instantly feigned amazement.

"James! You're awake!"

But she did not allow herself to run to him, seeing the captains in the room. They both immediately stood immediately and bowed.

"Miss Gagliano," they both said.

She curtsied formally.

"Captains."

"Perhaps you will excuse us, sir." Theodore said, turning to James as they both readied to leave.

James smiled, eager to be alone with Lucy.

"Yes, I'm sure you both wish to be with your families on Christmas day."

"Good day, Admiral. Miss." Groves said as they both saluted and left the room.

The door closed with a heavy thud, and Lucy, gripped by fear of judgment, didn't move. Norrington's face held a tender expression.

"Lucy, come."

He reached out for her hand, and she immediately came to him, taking his fingers in her own. He pulled her into lap and held her close to his chest.

"My dearest, I should have held you like this last night. Are you alright this morning? No physical pain, no guilt."

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his cheek before dropping her head.

"I am not in pain. Yet I am worried that you think poorly of what I did, James."

He wrapped his arms around her tighter.

"No, love, no. My beautiful angel…that is what you are to me."

He rocked her slightly and for her reassurance, he added, "There is no sin what we did -- we are affianced. I've heard that many couples these days do not wait until the marriage night to consummate their relationship."

Lucy's cheeks burned a bright red.

"You do something to me that I cannot understand, James…..Your scent, your figure, your scratchy jaw," she said, touching his face. "They arise in me a passion that I had only heard talked about before. And now it makes me do such things-- very wanton things that I had never considered."

James laughed and kissed her.

"That's lust, Lucy."

"But is that wrong in a wife?"

His green eyes pierced her, and he suddenly looked all of his thirty-four years.

"Men who don't find a warm marriage bed find comfort elsewhere. I shall never be that kind of man, as you shall never be that kind of woman. I think we shall make each other immensely happy acting on what we feel, not on what we've been told by some old vicar."

He kissed her fingers and continued.

"Doesn't the bible say that marriage was created to deliver man from sin, and we are soon to be married."

"Yes, yes…" She snuggled close and whispered in his ear, asking tentatively, "Did I please you last night?"

"Oh god, yes!" He answered easily, resting his hands against her waist. "You surprised me, I shall say, but I'm clay in your hands, Lucy." He kissed her neck and added, "Never have I given another so much control over me."

"I'd say that was made easier by the laudanum."

"Perhaps, but I trusted you." Then he added lowly, "I wished to submit to you."

"Truly?" She asked, eyes bright as she realized how much power she held over Port Royal's Admiral.

"Truly. But be warned Miss Gagliano, next time it shall be you that does the submitting."

"Oh!" Her brows raised.

"Fair is fair, my love," he laughed.

"As long as you treat me kindly, James. All of this... this pillow talk is new to me. Be gentle."

"I shall," he said, smiling fondly. But Lucy suddenly jumped from his lap.

"But it must wait until our wedding night!" She added quickly.

And his face suddenly turned to disappointment.

"But Lucy!" He begged and reached out for her, "Just once more..."

"No, James. We are only three weeks away. Make all the plans you wish for our marriage bed, but you must wait until then. Only kisses." She kissed him swiftly.

"You are a cruel mistress!"

He grabbed her wrist, his voice rough.

"But know, my love, that I _will_ be making plans, and there will be no wine or laudanum to keep me restrained."

Lucy smiled deviously.

"Admiral Norrington, I believe you may be rather wicked."

And he nodded, releasing her.

"You're right, my dear. I may well be."

Suddenly, she turned to the side table.

"I almost forgot your Christmas gift!" She tossed it in his lap and ran to the door. "I must get home to papa."

"Will you and your father come here for Christmas dinner at two o'clock?" Asked James.

"That's the plan," she smiled. "Good morning to you, Mister Norrington."

"Good morning, Lucy."

And when she was gone, he opened the box to find...


	20. Chapter 20

The Gift

Chapter 20: Fine

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Author's Note: Here is the last chapter. _Fine _(Fean-A) is the Italian musical word for 'The End'. I hope you enjoyed this story and I'd love to have a last review on your thoughts to the ending.

Thanks!

Lyra

_One month later:_

"Why is it so difficult to find one's wife at one's own wedding reception," mumbled an aggravated Norrington to the dense crowd of merry wedding guests

"Bonjour Admiral!" Lizette took his arm. "Your _bon cheri _is over there," she replied pointing across the crowded ballroom of the Governor's mansion.

Lucy was surrounded by a laughing and jovial crowd of young lieutenants which caused Norrington's nostrils to flair. It was his wedding party, and _he_ should be enjoying the company of his wife, not his young officers.

"Thank you, Madame Gillette."

"We are so happy for you, _au revoir_!"

Norrington had barely taken two steps forward when he felt a tug on his jacket sleeve.

"There you are, Jamie!"

It was his youngest sibling, Anne, and he leaned forward with a commanding voice as he corrected her.

"It's James."

The young woman merely rolled her green eyes and chided.

"Don't use that 'officer 'n chief' voice on me. It simply doesn't work!"

She laughed and took a sip of her champagne.

"There is really no stopping her, brother," offered a tall and handsome British officer with graying hair and green eyes. "She and Kate can be quite a pair."

"Duly noted, Hugh," James nodded to the only brother of seven that had bothered to attend his wedding. Hugh Norrington, LTC in His Majesty's Army, was stationed in the American colonies with his wife. The Norringtons' youngest sibling Anne had been visiting them in Boston and assisting Kate, Hugh's wife, with her new baby.

Hugh was summoned by Kate and bowed as he said, "If you'll excuse me, James. Your sister-in-law calls."

Anne quickly piped up, "Jamie, when are you going to take us to the other side of the island? I was hoping to go soon while we still have this nice break in the weather. Sometimes, the _Coleoptera Insecta_ is still active in these southern regions."

Norrington wanted to shake her in brotherly frustration. What kind of a man was going to marry a girl whose nose was constantly stuck in a botany book. She was very pretty; the spitting image of James' stepmother with black hair and a slender waist, but she had the Norrington family eyes that glowed an inquisitive green.

"Congratulations, Admiral," nodded Doctor Ingram as he passed the pair.

"Sir!" Norrington called out, and the doctor halted. James tightened his fingers around Anne's slender wrist.

"Anne, this is Doctor Johann Ingram, the physician who recently saved my life."

Anne's face beamed as she curtsied.

"Sir, I am honored to meet you!"

"Doctor, this is my youngest sibling, Miss Anne Norrington who is visiting from Boston."

"Welcome, to Port Royal, Miss Norrington," Ingram bowed.

"I believe you share a similar interest in the sciences and the study of fauna."

Norrington realized this was perhaps the strangest introduction he'd ever made for a woman. But it felt oddly appropriate as he added, "Beetles, in particular, I believe."

"Oh!" Nodded Ingram, his large blue eyes now intensely interested in the young woman.

"You are an entomologist?"

Anne smiled eagerly.

"It is a particular hobby of mine, indeed. Since living in the Americas, I've discovered four new species of _Anobiidae Coleoptera_."

Norrington had never seen Ingram smile so widely.

"Then you must visit the forest region on the western side of the island, as I have discovered three new species there myself!"

"Perhaps," interjected James, "You could do me a favor, doctor. I have promised Anne a visit to the western shores, but she wishes to go sooner than I can make ready. Would you consider giving her the tour? Chaperoned, of course."

Anne's dark eyebrows arched in surprise, and she clasped her hands.

"That would be wonderful! Of course, if it's not an imposition, Doctor Ingram."

"Yes, yes," agreed the fair- haired physician. "I'd be quite happy to show Miss Norrington our local flora and fauna. Not an imposition in the slightest!"

"Very well," Norrington said, nodding to the pair. "Anne, I shall leave you to make arrangements with the doctor, then. If you'll both excuse me, I must find my wife."

Feeling very good about matching his inquisitive sister with Doctor Ingram, he pushed his way through the crowd of well-wishers to Lucy's side. She was engaged in conversation with Lt. Mowett and some other young officers, the ruby earrings he'd given her for Christmas glittering in the candlelight.

"Gentlemen."

He bowed, and the young men saluted then hurried away.

"Madame Norrington…"

He kissed her hand.

"James! You've scared away my well wishes, and Lt. Mowett was just reciting me the most delightful poem," she laughed.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, for he knew Mowett's poetry all too well. "I believe it is time we say goodnight to the Governor and make our way home."

His lips curled like a fox in hunt, and Lucy new she was the prey. Ever since that night one month ago when she had seduced James as he lay in his sick bed, she had been playing coy. At each kiss, she kept her lips tightly sealed. At his cuddles, she'd brush him aside with frustration and words he loathed to hear.

"_Not until our wedding night, James!'"_

"Need I remind you, dear, it is our wedding night," he whispered hotly in her ear, and she giggled behind her lace fan.

"So eager, Mister Norrington!" Her dark eyes teased him. "Whatsoever for?"

"I believe you know quite well, Miss _Wanton_," he teased back.

"James!" She smacked her fan against his arm. "Tosh!"

He grabbed the fan and whispered, "No Mrs. Norrington, there will be no submission from me tonight. This evening it is my turn to command our..."

"Admiral! Mrs. Norrington! Congratulations!"

Norrington groaned, and then turned around to politely bow.

"Governor Swann, thank you, sir," he answered tightly.

Finally, upon arriving to their new home, Lucy bid farewell to her father. James ensured with his butler that the servants had the night off and then they made their way to the bedroom. Lucy wandered in and sat on his large bed, as Norrington turned to lock the door.

"We are not so poor, Lucy, that you may not have your own bedroom," he offered.

"No, I wish to sleep with you every night that you are here... That is, unless you'd rather have your privacy."

James grinned and dipped his head to kiss her.

"I wish no privacy where you are concerned."

Then as he kissed her again, her arms stiffened.

"What is wrong, love?"

Her dark lashes lowered.

"There is something that I never told you regarding my birthright, James."

The issue had been niggling her all evening.

"Your father never married your mother," James replied, sitting beside her on the bed. Her dark eyes were wide.

"What?! How did you know?"

"Your father told me the night I asked him for your hand in marriage," James replied nonchalantly, brushing her knuckles with a kiss. "He also told me that you were no courtesan, and that if I laid a hand on you before the wedding that he would person cut off my manhood with his carving knife."

Lucy laughed richly.

"And you still wished to marry me after all of that?"

"Well, the part about the carving knife was rather bothersome, but I thought I could manage well enough. Thank goodness he didn't visit my sick bed on Christmas Eve!" He exclaimed with a laugh. "That would have been hard to explain."

Then removing his tricorn, he said, "I courted a woman once, because I thought she would make a fine officer's wife..."

"Elizabeth..." Lucy said softy. It was an issue of which they had never spoken.

"Yes. I pined for her with the same passion that I pined for the position of post- captain. I was eager to have two epaulets balancing my shoulders…..She was a prideful desire, and her rejection made me humble."

"Oh, James."

Lucy stroked his cheek with tender affection.

"Soon afterwards, Theodore Groves, the son of Lord Edward Groves of Wessex married Jane Ledgerwood, a merchant's daughter. It was a match I didn't understand at first, because I didn't understand love... After my mother died, my father took up with a young and very beautiful Irish maid who made him very happy. When she became pregnant, he married her."

"Anne's mother?"

"Yes. I never forgave him for that, because I never understood why he loved her."

He took both her hands in his.

"I was a fool…. Elizabeth Swann made me realize that. Abandoning my post and living in Tortuga was my way of punishing myself for neglecting the only thing that I had ever really loved -- duty. When I failed my men during our chase of Sparrow, I sank so low…"

His green eyes were distant.

"I realized somewhere between the mugs of rum that the only thing I had of value in my life was friendship. I certain didn't have love, because I'd had never truly allowed myself to submit a woman's love….And when I learned that Groves and Gillette were being held by the East India Trading Company because of their loyalty to me, I had to act. It was my first step towards redemption."

Lucy felt her heart swelling with love for the man that sat beside her.

"My second act was to write my stepmother; apologizing for my behavior and seeking her forgiveness for my youthful scorn."

"And did she respond?"

"Yes."

His pink lips smiled slightly.

"Yes, she forgave me with an open heart..." He sighed. "I had been so very low to her when I was boy, and she forgave me. It was the start I needed to begin forgiving myself. I saw Theodore and Jane so very happy and Gillette eagerly wooing the baker's daughter. I had to reconstruct in my mind what love was. I had to allow myself to understand and accept the idea that love is selfless-- it doesn't see class and it shouldn't be used for social status."

Lucy's eyes welled with tears.

"When I had decided that I was in love with you, Lucy -- this little twig of an Italian girl and her beautiful music…It hurt so badly to think that you might not be able to love me in return."

"Oh, James," she said, kissing his fingers. "You sprung it on me with such surprise, and I am sure I am more a novice than you when it comes to sweethearts and lovers."

James stroked her cheek.

"When I first asked your father for your hand, the first thing he did was ask me if I loved you. I thought this was an odd question, but I answered, 'Yes, with my entire heart and soul.' Then he told me about your birth and your mother, and he asked me if I still loved you…if I could still respect you."

Lucy's eyes widened.

"And?"

"I told him your secret would be my secret and that I would protect your honor with my name and my sword. I swear that to you now, Lucrezia, just as I swore that to your father."

"James, I could not ask for a more wonderful and honorable man to be my husband," she cried, throwing herself into his arms. "I feel so unworthy of your love."

"What makes one worthy of love?" He asked, innocent as a knave.

"It is a man's character that makes him worthy of loving," she answered solidly. "Neither possessions nor his power of station, nor his title. It is his benevolence towards others, his protection of the weak, his regard towards friendship and his duty to serve others, James Norrington."

She sighed and relaxed into his arms.

"When I was on that pirate boat so far away from you, I saw you most clearly -- in Andrew Gillette's love for you, in Barbossa's hatred for you….and I knew...no, I felt such a deep, painful longing for your voice. Here," she whispered, touching her hand to her heart. "I knew I loved you because I felt your loss here, like a crushing weight."

"And now?" Asked James, tenderly kissing her cheek.

"Now I am made whole."

And James smiled.

"As am I. It is a wonderful gift from God."

"Aye, my love," she said, kissing her husband, her hand smoothing against his chest and running over his heart.

"What is this?"

Then pulling back his dress coat, she saw her Christmas gift pinned to his jacket.

"I've been wearing it every day, love," he said smiling and squeezed her hand. "You're literally pinned to my heart."

The small cameo that her bore her likeness glowed in the candlelight against his beige waistcoat and royal navy lace. She turned over the small token and read aloud the words she'd had engraved on the silver backing only a month ago.

"_Heart and Soul. Yours, L.G._"

Norrington brushed his lips against her knuckles.

"Yes, but you forgot to put, _body_."

Lucy raised a dark brow.

"My dear Mister N, now that we are wed, my body is completely yours, as well."

They kissed deeply.

"I love you, Lucy Norrington."

"I love you, too, Admiral."

And as husband and wife, he made love to Lucy properly. And they lived happily ever after...


End file.
